


All Is Fair In Love And Gobball

by Angelprincess01



Category: Wakfu
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Garter kink, Glasses kink, Hand Kisses, Kriss is a well meaning feminist, Kriss is an idiot, Mild sexual roleplay, Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, becoming friends with benefits and accidentally falling in love, blowjob, by dating his manager to help her out, dealing with onesided crush, fake engagement, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelprincess01/pseuds/Angelprincess01
Summary: Felice Sotare is trying hard to prove to her family that she has what it takes to be more than just the heiress of the family estate. Managing her grandfather's Gobball team was supposed to be the way to do that but now  the previous captain has left them in serious debt. With the arrival of Kriss la Krass she hopes to turn the tides for Lambchester United and lead the team to victory. When she's in a tight spot, Kriss la Krass offers her a way out of her familial obligations by becoming her fake lover in public and her friend with benefits behind the scenes. As long as she doesn't lose her heart to the brokenhearted captain she'll be fine, but Felice finds it hard to resist when the well-meaning jock proves to be charming, witty and always ready to help a hand. But when your team captain is hopelessly devoted to another woman things tend to get messy.Updates every 4th Saturday of the month.





	1. Chapter 1

_Feca’s Shield protects all those in need._

“Gramps, what kind of idiot did you manage to find to become the new team captain?” Felice asked her grandfather as they waited at the pier. The day was balmy and warm, sun pouring down in heavy rays that made the sea air smell saltier than usual. She remembered all too well the terror that had been the last team captain. While not leaving the team in total ruins, morale had been left flagging and team results had gone down equally. She didn’t know if her grandfather was serious about this new guy, or if it was just his way of stretching the team through the last two games of this season.

“Try to be nice to the new captain dear,” her grandfather, Genji Sotare, tried to soothe her. As the oldest player on the team he should have been captain for a long time, if only on the basis of anciennity. 

“You know, if I wanted to be part of the family business, I could’ve just lived on the farm like the other Feca,” she muttered, turning another leaf in her expenses booklet. With a sigh she added the overseas ferry price to it as the boat finally arrived, along with the cost of rent for the continued renting of the team’s lodgings. “Instead of…” her voice trailed away when her grandfather sent her a stern look. “Fine poppy, I’m shutting up now.”

Her grandfather patted her side, smiling goodnaturedly. “There’s my girl. Now, keep your eyes open. Kriss la Krass should have been on this boat.”

Felice stood on her tippy toes, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. So far there was no sign of a tan Stracian coming off the ship, the main crowd being other Feca and some Eniripsa. The latter were always welcome during the last weeks of gobbal season, when the local Eniripsa were running out of magic and players still needed to be healed regularly. “Are you sure he’s a Stracian, poppy? I don’t see him anywhere.” Taking a deep breath she took one last good look. “Is there a Kriss la Krass around here?!”

“Are you looking for me?” A raspy voice asked from behind them. 

Felice and her grandfather both turned around, faced with the only Stracian on the docks. His long white hair was tied back with a bandana, while his gray traveling clothes contrasted with his skin. There were dark lines around his eyes, as if he’d been sleeping poorly. Felice wondered if noting down their new captain was seasick would be useful and decided against it.

“Kriss la Krass, welcome to Bonta! I’m glad you could make it, son.” Her grandfather said excitedly, grabbing the younger man’s hand in his own and pumping it up and down. “Did you have a good trip? Not too many storms along the way?”

The newcomer shook his head, glancing curiously at Felice. She met his pupilless glance with her own curious look as she wondered - in the words of her father - what kind of gobball meat she had in the pantry. The new captain answered her grandfather kindly. “Thanks for the welcome, Genji. I didn’t know if you’d be meeting me at the docks or at the stadium, so I was just about to head into town.”

Well, this guy was nice to her grandfather, so it wasn’t a total loss. And of all the captains they could have had, she supposed this one was rather easy on the eyes. She opened her ledger to make a few preliminary notes. 

“Luckily I heard your cheerleader calling my name, or I would have missed you,” the new captain finished his speech.

The pencil snapped in between her fingers. _Cheerleader? Do I look like a cheerleader?_ Just what she could have expected from a guy coming from _Brakmar_. 

“Oh, that’s not my cheerleader,” her grandfather started to explain hastily. “This charming young lady is my-”

“Manager,” Felice said curtly.

“Granddaughter,” her grandfather finished.

The new arrival glanced quickly between the two of them, trying to sort the new information while processing his accidental insult. Felice snapped her notebook shut with a sharp clack, making both men straighten in apprehension. “Well, now that we’ve gotten acquainted, we have work to do. Let’s get you back to our lodgings and then we’ll see about introducing you to the rest of the team.”  
The nerve, she fumed, of mistaking her for a cheerleader! Would the cheerleaders have taken the trouble to welcome the new captain? Maybe if they knew it was a cutie, but even then they would have been clamoring for pay. Speaking of which.

“Poppy probably filled you in already, but since the previous captain pilfered our funds we’re a bit low-stocked on pretty much anything. It’ll get better once the new season starts and I’ve gotten to talk to a few of the sponsors.” _A cheerleader!_ She would have liked to see the former cheerleaders do what she did. Well, now that the former captain was gone his groupies had fled as well. Maybe this time she’d be able to find some girls who were into it for real. She could ask around in her dance club for starters.

“What? I just heard you were a team that’s doing fairly well, and that you were looking for a new captain,” Kriss said from behind her, carrying his single knapsack slung over his shoulder.

Felice glanced over her shoulder, a warning spark in her eyes. “Poppy?”

“I might have… glanced over a few details,” the elderly man admitted, looking anywhere but at his granddaughter. 

“Wait, what’s the problem? Do we have a problem?” Kriss asked, seemingly grasping there were some issues.

Felice groaned as she kept walking, cutting off an incoming grocery cart. The gobball hitched in front narrowly managed to stop as the driver shouted obscenities at their little group.

\-------------------------  
Kriss hastily followed after his new manager - and the concept of a manager looking this good still was foreign to him - as they were nearly run over by the grocery cart. He hadn’t meant to be rude, but how had he been supposed to know that the old man inviting him wasn’t the manager? Though she had certainly made an effort to look professional; her dark brown hair was neatly gathered in a bun, captured in a net of light yellow pearls. Her black pencil skirt hugged her hips tightly, while the red blouse and matching reading glasses lightened her appearance. Capturing a flash of her disapproving pout and cool blue eyes he averted his glance.

_Definitely a change from old madam Stroud or the greaseballs in Brakmar._

Kriss rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the tired feeling. Apart from it being the first time on a boat and discovering he became seasick, he also hadn’t gotten over Maud’s refusal to follow him to Bonta.  
He didn’t understand. There was nothing his mentor could gain in Brakmar; banned from the Gobball fields as a woman, Maud couldn’t enjoy playing their favorite sport in the open without facing punishment. If she’d come to Bonta with Kriss, the woman he now pined for would have had a chance to be recognized as a great player.

His reminiscencing was interrupted by the voice of his new manager. “As I said, the previous captain made off with previous funds so I had to… let him go. Because of that we lost a lot of money and we’re still indebted to several establishments. I’m trying not to let the team suffer, but some sacrifices had to be made. We still had enough influence to book one of the training fields for a day, so tomorrow you can see how you fit in the team.”

So, not the rosy Gobball start he’d had in mind. Still, being captain of a struggling team did beat not playing at all. “We can’t start today, uh…?” He’d missed her name.

This time they stopped at an intersection, allowing a gaggle of schoolchildren to pass. His manager turned partly, pushing up her glasses with one finger. “I’m Felice Sotare. My grandfather, Genji Sotare, is the person who you’ve been corresponding with. You can call me Felice outside of business, but when we’re in official circles you’ll have to call me ‘manager’. I trust _that_ won’t be a problem?”

So the cheerleader remark hadn’t been appreciated? Of course this was just what he needed, a fight with his new manager before he’d even met his team mates. He muttered his assent, rearranging his shoulder bag.

Her eyes followed his movement and softened so quickly that Kriss thought he’d imagined it. When Felice talked this time it was without the razor edge that had been hiding underneath. “We’ll be at the player apartments soon. You’ll have some time to adjust, and then I’ll introduce you to the team over dinner. Tomorrow, after training, I trust they’ll be happy to show you around town.”

Okay, so she was slightly bitchy, but not completely. It was a relief to know she’d be willing to cut him some slack. As they walked the slope gradually inclined, until they reached a long series of steps. From here the route split in several directions, some steps running up toward a large hill while others ran back down. Each staircase led to what looked like large, light-colored buildings, looking out over the city. From this angle, the stadium was centered in view. Kriss stared in amazement.

“Better view than Brakmar, aint it boy?” Genji asked next to him. Catching Kriss’ look of surprise, the old man shrugged. “I caught a match there a few months back. It’s when I saw you play there. After the trouble with ol’ Coyot, I suggested little Feli we hire some exciting new blood.”

Kriss glanced to where ‘Little Feli’ was ascending the stairs, one hand lightly on the railing while she peered in a notebook. “She doesn’t seem the type to just say yes on a whim, Genji.”

“She’s a tough butternut, but she listens to sense. You do right by her, and she’ll do the same for you. It’s in her nature.” The old man looked after his granddaughter with an obvious sense of pride.

They followed after the young woman, and Kriss had to wonder how she managed to get the stairs up so fast in her high heels. The stairs criss-crossed further up the mountain, sometimes winding around it, before they came to a corridor carved into rock. Walking through it they exited on the other side. A small garden filled with flowers led to a low mansion with light yellow walls and red roofs. “This is the team base. You’re welcome to get your own place in town if it makes you more comfortable, but most players prefer it here,” Felice said as she unlocked the door. Before they entered she tossed him a key, which Kriss caught in one hand. “That’s your key. Take care not to lose it, sometimes fans can get a bit carried away.”

They entered the house, and Kriss immediately caught the scent of soap and fragrant herbs. Catching sight of a bowl filled with flowers, he was struck by the difference with Brakmar. He’d been invited to an afterparty at a player’s house there once, and flowers would never have made it past the threshold of that door. “I’ve arranged for cleaning to come twice a week. If you don’t want them in your room just tell me and I’ll inform them. There’s a laundry basket in the bathroom on this floor, and on the second floor. I keep the fridge stocked personally. You can eat out or join your team mates for an evening meal, or take leftovers if you feel like having a picnic. If there’s anything you need, drop me a note and I’ll make sure it gets here asap.”

Genji must have caught the impressed look on Kriss’ face. “Little Feli is one of the best managers around. You won’t find any other team this well cared for.”

Felice cleared her throat. “My room is out the door here and through the garden. That’s poppy’s room-” she pointed to a worn wooden door directly at the right of the entrance. Next the broken pencil in her hand was directed to the left door from the entrance. “-and there you’ll find Jeremy, one of the team’s blockers.”

Kriss’ eyes landed on the little name plaques above the doors. Worked in a dark, yellow stone they were subtle. Following Felice into the living room he found it was a shared space with the kitchen. It was spacious, with light furniture and plants. There were several bookcases against the wall on their right. The left of the room was dedicated to a modest kitchen, complete with cupboards and a cooking island. Here and there personal items were strewn about; a pair of shoes, a scarf, a partly destroyed gobball. It looked like someone had been chewing on the latter. Felice must have caught his glance, since she rolled her eyes. “Monty has a special relationship with gobballs. And to think most Ouginak are vegetarians.”

Looking at the entrance behind him, he noted that at the other end of the wall there were stairs leading up. In between these two entrances was a chart with match-ups for the current tournament, as well as what looked like an intel board. The fourth wall was mostly windows, looking out over another garden space and the cliffs. Looking through he noted there was indeed a single door, leading to a room only accessible through the garden.  
He followed Felice and Genji up the stairs, where they ended in a corridor. Up here the walls were streaked with banners in red and gold, most of them reading ‘Lambchester United’ and ‘Go Team’. The hallway itself was straight, with three doors leading to separate rooms. Felice led him to the one straight ahead, where he noted a new plaque with his name had already been made and installed. 

_Kriss la Krass.  
Captain of Lambchester United_

She opened the door and leaned back to let him pass. He looked around, surprised at how big the room was. Once again the back wall consisted mostly out of windows, four-panelled and looking out over the ocean. He walked inside, looking out over the wide expanse of the ocean, the setting sun slowly sinking beyond the scope of his modest balcony. 

_If only you could see this, Maud._

A double bed was placed near the back wall, with a chest at the foot of it. There were a few empty bookcases as well as a desk and chair. The rest of the room was left bare.

“As I said, if you need anything, just let me know and I’ll make sure it gets here,” Felice said from the doorway. “I’m going to get started on dinner. You get settled in. I’ll send someone to get you when food’s ready.”

The door closed behind his new teammates and Kriss found himself standing alone in his captain’s room. Slinging his backpack on the bed, he started to unpack the few things he’d brought along. Tucking away his favorite shirts and pants in the chest, he then moved to the desk. There he placed the few knicknacks he’d picked up along the way. The small knife his dad had given him growing up, making him promise to stay safe. A hair pin his mom had once used to tame his long hair. A few interesting rocks and shells. His first gobball, long since coming apart at the seams. And… 

He paused, looking down at the little carved heart in his hand. Kriss hadn’t really forgotten it was in there, but he’d pushed it to the back of his mind. Tracing the carved runes he followed the grain of the wood with his thumb. He’d been planning on giving it to Maud, if she’d agreed to joining him on this adventure. Walking back to his bed, he lay down and held up the small wooden trinket. Kriss replayed their first and only kiss in his head. He’d really thought she would have been pleased with his invitation. It had been a chance for her to get out there and play. Instead she had preferred the Masked Gobballer over moving to Bonta. Preferred a masked idiot over her protege. 

Kriss didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at the hand-carved piece. There was a knock at his door, and then audible shuffling outside. “Yeah?” he called out. The door opened and he was greeted by a large Iop, as exemplified by the typical red hair and, slightly more rare, the same pupilless eyes Kriss had. Seemed like someone had Sacrier blood as well.

“You’re our new captain, right? Feli told me to introduce myself. I’m Jay, I’m this team’s pitcher.” the Iop was very large, but also very calm. This was a change from the ones Kriss had encountered back in Brakmar.

“Yeah, I’m your new captain, Kriss la Krass.” Kriss stood up, depositing the object of his musings in his pocket before holding out a hand. “I’m sure we’ll work well together, Jay.”

At once his hand was engulfed by a larger one and squeezed painfully. Bones ground together and Kriss thought he heard a delicate clicking sound. He grit his teeth, wondering if it was a show of strength or just pure Iop dumbness. When his hand was released, Kriss received a wide grin from Jay. Dumbness it was then. Shaking his hand and grateful for his Sacrier healing abilities, Kriss heard Felice calling from downstairs.

“Jay, you better not be forgetting to say food’s ready!”

At once the pitcher brightened up. “Oh yeah, Feli finished cooking. Tonight’s fish soup. I love fish soup.”

Kriss smiled, suspecting he would get along fine with this guy. He appreciated people who were laid back off the field, as long as it translated in a decent portion of bloodlust on the field. “I’m starving actually,” Kriss said, laying his previously injured hand on his stomach. He hadn’t had much of an appetite during his trip, but being on solid ground for a few hours had done wonders for his physical well being.

They made their way downstairs where Kriss found a large table had been decked out with an assortment of plates and bowls. His eye immediately landed on Felice, who was directing the table seating with a plating spoon.

“For granny’s sake, Jeremy, stop getting in Monty’s way so much. I only just paid a dentistry fee for you last week. I don’t care if he started it, I’m ending it,” Felice shouted, almost jumping in between a shoving match of a tiny Iop and a bull Ouginak. “Poppy, you’d better not be adding spices to that soup.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Kriss asked as he entered the room, opting for a spontaneous entrance. He’d have to captain this lot, and he’d prefer to do it in a friendly way. “Something smells great here.”

This seemed to mellow Felice somewhat. “It’s fish soup. Fresh caught this morning, and I made plenty, so eat up.”

“Captain sits at the head of the table,” Jay informed him, before sliding in his own seat. 

Kriss glanced at Felice, who hadn’t heard the exchange. It seemed like she’d be sitting at the other end, with his teammates in between them. Glancing between the two unknown players, Kriss took a guess in addressing the Ouginak. “You’re Monty, right?” he asked, based on which of the two seemed most likely to chew up a gobball.

His correct guess had the added effect of impressing his future teammates, and soon Kriss found himself being informed about everything that had happened in this tournament. This line of conversation inevitably led to the question of what had happened to the former captain. At this the table went quiet and all the men glanced at Felice, who delicately dabbed at her lips with a napkin. Her reading glasses were nowhere to be seen, Kriss noted.

“Coyot, you mean?” she paused, as if considering what she could tell them. “I took care of the problem.”

Wasn’t that reassuring? As if that concluded their conversation, the suddenly aloof manager grabbed another piece of bread and chewed it delicately. 

The topic of conversation turned back to their upcoming match, and time flew by. Before Kriss knew it a yawn crept up and escaped. Jeremy squeaked from his seat near Felice’s right arm that Kriss would do better to get some sleep, while the rest of the group did the dishes.

“If you guys are sure…,” Kriss muttered, standing up and stretching.

“Sure thing cap, get some sleep. We’ve got this,” Monty said, standing up as well and starting to collect the dishes.

“The food was great,” Kriss said, trying to make up for his one faux pas of this morning. “I guess there sure are some benefits to a female manager.” He could feel the wrongness of his remark as it came out, but there was no stopping it. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped as Felice stood up from her chair, sidestepping her grandfather as he cleaned the table.

“I think I’ll make a casserole next time. It’s the last thing I served the previous captain,” her tone was almost silky sweet, and Kriss felt a sudden shiver run up his spine. 

After his newly pissed off manager had left the room, Jay clapped Kriss on the shoulder with a loud and reverberating smack. “Don’t worry about it, captain. It was a pudding she served the previous captain.”

“Not the problem, but thanks for the thought,” Kriss said. He was relieved he was getting along with the team, but he sure would have liked getting along with the manager better. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day for him. 

_Sacrier’s Blood thrives in hardship._


	2. Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felice and Kriss have two awkward moments and some hierarchy needs to be decided.
> 
> Hope you're like the story everyone! Remember, updates are every 4th saturday. Also, if anyone wants to be a proofreader, contact me via comments or on tumblr ^^
> 
> If you wanna follow me on Tumblr you can find me as Moonsenvoy, while on Twitter I'm @ReaderMaru
> 
> Have a good day!

_Feca’s Shield is forged in constant practice._

The Tofu birds sang outside as the first rays of the morning sun hit Felice’s window. Yawning she stretched out her arms, getting in her first good stretch of the day. Thanks to the light dinner the day before she woke up peckish, an extra motivator to get her day started. With a sigh she rolled to the side of her bed, planning on finding her glasses on the nightstand. Instead she rolled out of bed and onto the floor, landing on the pillows laying there just for that purpose.  
“One day,” she said yawning, reaching around for her glasses. “One day I’ll be able to wake up like a normal person.”

With bleary eyes she found the small wash can and splashed water in her face before running a brush through her long hair. Sitting down in front of her makeup table, Felice took care in pulling up her hair in the usual bun she wore outside of her room. The room upstairs from her remained quiet, showing that their new captain wasn’t an extremely early riser. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, Felice sighed before placing her Gobball ivory pins between her lips as she slowly placed them in her bun.  
Rationally speaking it made sense Kriss hadn’t meant to insult her… twice. Felice was enough of an adult to know that no sane adult would want to make life harder on himself by messing with his new manager. It was probably a part of living in Brakmar for so long. But somehow she didn’t think that was the only problem. Once or twice he’d had a pensive look on his face, staring off into the distance while the others talked.

He’ll talk it over with the guys soon enough. _They seem to be getting along_ , she thought to herself, adjusting the final clip. After that she pulled a simple ivory blouse out of her closet, pairing it with the pencil skirt and shoes of the day before.  
Before heading out she stopped by the small feed bag near her door, pulling out half a hand of bird seed. “Here mama bird,” she called out. Immediately a Tofu bird swept from the roof, where it had built a nest. The bird landed in front of Felice, tweeting loudly.  
“Enjoy,” Felice said, depositing the seeds in front of the Tofu. From above her soft chirping sounds broke through the stillness of the morning. Today looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. In front of her the sea glittered in the morning sun, while the back garden was still restfully covered in shade. A single boat gentle bobbed up and down in the distance, the white sails reflecting the morning sun.

Felice turned around, walking to the main building with big strides. Walking with her high heels had taken a lot of practice, but she’d found people took her more seriously when she walked taller. And so the heels stayed.  
Inside the main building everything was still quiet. Felice got a start on breakfast, gathering the ingredients for an omelet. By the time she’d started to whisk her omelet, Monty appeared from the first floor. “Morning Feli,” he greeted her. 

“Morning Monty. Sleep well?” she asked, added chopped herbs to the mixture.

“Myeah,” he mooed softly, rubbing his eyes with big hands. After a few more groans he moved to set the table, plates and cutlery chiming softly as they added their own sounds to the gentleness of the morning. “You gonna wake up Jay? I think he had night terrors again.”

“Sure thing,” Felice answered, pouring the egg batter in a hot skillet before letting Monty take over. Walking up the stairs she listened for the telltale sounds of an avalanche rolling down a hill, the typical sound Jay made when getting dressed. When no such sounds were forthcoming she knocked on the door leading to Jay’s bedroom. In response she got a loud groan, indicating it was okay to open the door. “Wake up, Jay. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Dun wanna,” Jay muttered, pulling the blankets over his head. “There’s SOAP out there.”

Felice sighed. She’d thought they were past the soap issue by now. “There’s no soap at breakfast Jay. Now get dressed. Today is the first practice day with your new captain, and you don’t want to disappoint him, now do you?”

“No.” 

“I’ll see you downstairs then,” Felice said, hesitating as she turned to the door leading to the captain’s room. She supposed she could wake up Kriss as well so everyone could enjoy their first breakfast as a team together. It just felt really awkward after both his well-intentioned foot in mouth moments and her subsequent snark. Then again, there was no time like the present. Taking a moment to straighten her skirt she walked to the Captain’s door and knocked. No answer came, so she knocked again.

“What?” Kriss’ voice sounded muffled, as if he was hiding underneath his pillow.

Felice pushed down the handle of the door, opening it and peeking inside without entering. “Good morning Kriss. We usually have breakfast together on training days. Would you like to join us?”

Kriss got up, leaning on one arm. He seemed to sleep in just his underwear as Felice could see his tan chest just fine; his Sacrier heart mark was perfectly visible, even in the low light. “I slept like a log.” He threw back his covers, planting both feet on the ground. His long hair was tousled, lighting up orange in the rising sunlight. “Let’s get the day started.”

He stood up, and Felice started to move away when her gaze dropped south, following the fine white hairs that made up his happy trail. In the same moment Kriss had met her eyes and followed her path of vision. “Oh,” he said, looking down at himself.

“I’m just,” Felice started, trying not to stare at the new captain’s morning wood. “Y’know. Going to get started. We have a hard- I mean long- I mean… BREAKFAST IS READY SEE YOU DOWNSTAIRS!!!” She turned around and practically ran into Monty, who seemed to be on his way to help her with getting Jay out of his room.

“Feli, did you wake the captain yet? I can go help him if you want me to,” Monty said, trying to move past her. 

Felice had never felt more motivated for some quick acrobatics in the morning. Placing one foot against the wall she jumped, reached a hand to the blue bull’s horns and managed to pull him in a half spin, turning him away from Kriss' room. “I’m sure he’ll join us when he’s ready. So let’s give him plenty of time, okay?”

“It’s nice seeing you this energetic in the morning Feli, but you shouldn’t go around jumping in heels. You could hurt yourself,” Monty muttered, following her down the stairs.

Felice did everything she could to not know how long it took for Kriss to appear at the breakfast table, since that would have meant admitting she was in any way timing how long it took for him to take care of his _problem_. By the time the team captain arrived she’d somehow managed to create an entirely new omelet, squeeze fresh juice and get a new stack of pancakes started, heaping some on a plate for the captain with the intention of being very chill.  
Kriss looked around, his hair held back in a tan bandana, wearing his beige slacks and a fresh linen shirt. “Morning guys. Something smells great.”

“Feli’s been cooking like mad. Probably trying to make a good impression on our new captain, aren’t ya manager?” Jeremy said, standing on his chair to reach his own stack of pancakes.

At this comment, Kriss’s eyes inevitably found her. Even without pupils it wasn’t hard to know where he was looking; the energy of his gaze made her jolt slightly. She could have sworn the temperature was rising. Felice tried a smile, quickly turning it into a cough when Kriss moved to her. _Stay cool, Felice, you didn’t even see it that clearly. Just an outline, you’re both adults and this doesn’t make you less professional._

Kriss cleared his throat, taking the plate from Felice’s hand. His fingers didn’t touch hers, but there was still the hint of body heat. “Thanks. It looks great,” he said.

She’d averted her gaze, but at the sound of his voice she renewed the eye contact. “No problem. Enjoy.” 

Taking her own seat at one of the far ends of the table, Felice hoped she’d be able to live down her little faux pas from this morning. At least Kriss didn’t look like he’d be giving her a hard time about it. That cheered her up a bit, and before long the awkward moment was mostly forgotten, replaced by the same spirit of budding camaraderie that had started the day before.

\-------------  
“Alright guys,” Felice started, picking one gobball out of a basket at the edge of the training field. The ball had seen a bit of wear and tear, but it still was plenty fine for the basic exercises she had in mind.  
The field they were standing on basked in the early sun, located on one of the higher plateaus carved out in the mountain. The location was such that while fans could attend trainings, it would discourage too many people from being present all the time. Felice tossed the ball from one hand to the next, trying to stand on her toes as much as possible to prevent her high heels from sinking in the ground. “To start with, let’s practice tossing the ball back and forth for the coming few hours. We’ll want to take it slow since-”

“Why?” Kriss asked, sounding surprised.

“Since we have a new captain joining us, and teamwork might be a tad rusty at first,” Felice finished her sentence, tossing the ball at Kriss. “If said captain wants to start training, feel free.”

\--------------

Kriss caught the ball in one hand, looking from it to his manager. Unlike the Brakmar gobball, this one was a friendly white and light blue combo. It was even smiling, despite the little crosses for eyes. “Jay, catch,” he said, throwing the ball with one hand to the nearby Iop.

Jay caught the ball, looking pleased at having received the first pass. Then he pointed at Jeremy, throwing the fluffy gobball at the shorter man. The ball nearly hit Jeremy in the face but he managed to capture it nonetheless. It looked like his team knew what they were doing, Kriss thought as he received another pass. Tossing the ball to Genji, he was surprised to see their oldest member toss the ball to Felice.  
“Catch, little Feli.”

Felice caught it, looking partly surprised and partly annoyed. “I was thinking about sitting this one out, Poppy. There’s not a big chance I’ll have to stand in for these last two matches.”

“Stand in?” Kriss asked. He was used to some teams having players on the bench. Heck, most teams had players on the bench, unless they were top class teams that would just keep going. Being from Brakmar once again proved a disadvantage, although this time their manager didn’t seem like she took the surprise personally.

Balancing her notebook and highlighter in one hand, Felice placed the hand holding the gobball on her hip. _Not a bad posture for someone who insists on stilettos,_ Kriss thought.

“I stand in when one of you guys gets injured. I don’t usually actively participate in matches though.” the woman gingerly touched her lips as she mused. “I’d like to keep all of my teeth.”

That was an… esthetic comment to make, Kriss thought. But now that he thought about it, Maud had also been more keen on avoiding the actual physical contact part of the sport. He watched as Felice threw the ball to Monty, who caught and threw it in the same move back to Genji. They went through a few rounds to limber up.  
“When are we getting to the good stuff?” Kriss asked, tossing the gobball to Felice.

“Probably not today. Research has shown that teams who start slow usually end up building a better rapport,” Felice answered, throwing the gobball back to him in a gentle arc. The movement made her shirt rise for a second, revealing a strip of bare skin and what could have been the upper rim of lacy panties. 

“Not today? Our next match is in three days,” Kriss shot back, throwing the ball to Genji. He tried not to stare at the sudden flash of underwear.

“I know, but as I said, research-”

“I need to know what my team can do before we get in a real match,” Kriss countered.

Felice’s eyes narrowed, their sparkling blue somehow turning a tad menacing. “Hurrying things too much at this stage is not recommended. Being able to properly forward a pass is essential in scoring goals.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but someone was shouting across the field for them.

Looking to the field entrance, Kriss noted a portly gentleman running toward Felice, waving a small bunch of papers. “Who’s that?”

“One of our debt collectors. Looks like I’m done with training,” Felice said, waving a hand despondently in the air. “I’ll go handle this, you guys keep passing the ball. Maybe tomorrow we can do something more complicated.” With that she turned away, only stopping at one point to dig out one of her heels as it sank into the grassy soil. Her ass was nicely shaped, Kriss thought, and the sudden reveal of ivory garter belts as her pencil skirt creeped up as she bent forward.

Kriss watched, absentmindedly catching the ball as it came his way and passing it on again. To be fair, he wasn’t sure what a manager was even supposed to do, since madame Stroud had mostly seemed to be around just to rake in profits. In Brakmar teams usually got everything hand-delivered by adoring fans. Granted, those fans were usually big burly men because women couldn’t admit to even knowing Gobball existed. In that regard have an attractive manager was certainly a plus. And Felice was pretty hot, if a bit uptight. Still, it wasn’t like Felice compared to Maud. Maud would never have fumbled a ball like that.

But, now that they were free-  
“Anybody want to show me what they’ve really got?”

Jay hesitated, fiddling his fingers. “But Feli said we had to work on passes today.”

“Jay, I’m the new captain, right?” Kriss started with a smile.

“Yeah.”

“Which means that,” here Kriss winked, catching a pass from Monty with one hand. “On the field, I’m the boss.”

“That sounds logical.”

“And you can only have one boss, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, Felice can’t tell you what to do here. I’m the captain, we’re playing a match and I’m telling you to show me what you got!” And here, Kriss decided, was the moment where he threw a peace sign and stuck out his tongue to the side. “You get it, bud?”

“Yeah!” Jay shouted, grabbing the basket of remaining Gobballs. “I’ll show you what I got, captain!”

It was at this moment that Kriss realized maybe, just maybe, his manager had wanted to build things up slowly for a reason.

\------------------------------

Well, that training had been every bit as intensive he’d hope it would be, Kriss mused as they’d hit the showers. Few things felt as good as a hot shower after a day of training that demanded everything. In the stalls next to him his teammates talked loudly, adding their voices to the splashing of water. Above his head a bar of soap somersaulted between Genji and Jeremy, while behind him Jay burst out in a Iop song. It had been a pretty good day all in all. He ran his hands through his long hair, clearing out the suds. The soapy water ran past the Heartmark on his chest, trailing the fine line that had separated it since Maud had rejected him. The warm water felt good splashing against his face, and for the first time since leaving Brakmar he felt as if he were finally healing a bit.

“Turn up the volume, Jay!” he shouted over the water, leaning his head back. His sore muscles pulled in protest at the stretch.

In the locker room a door slammed, and the atmosphere in the showers plummeted from tropical to tentatively mild. There were a few soft clicks heard, and Kriss knew he recognized the sound but couldn’t for the world put his finger on what it announced. “LA KRASS! We need to talk, now!”

“If we stay quiet, she might not realize we’re here,” Monty whispered from his stall.

They remained quiet for a few seconds, and then the clicking resumed. The temperature dropped further from mild to nearly freezing. Kriss now realized why it had taken a while for him to place the sound. High heels usually didn’t enter a Gobball locker room. “I can hear the showers running guys!”

As one man they turned off their showers, waiting for another shout. Kriss checked around him, seeing his towel and quickly hiding his vulnerables behind it. “She’s not going to storm in here, is she?”

Genji replied in the same hushed whisper. “Nah, Feli’s much to shy and kind hearted to come bursting in a shower room when there’s other people in there.”

Kriss remembered the manager’s flustered reaction from this morning, and thought that made sense. It hadn’t stopped her from looking at it though. She uttered her next threat. “ La Krass, I swear to my granny I’ll rip those pointy ears of your head if you don’t come out right now.”

“Maybe we can just stay in here until she leaves?” Kriss suggested. Normally any Sacrier would jump at the chance for conflict, but unlike a Iop they knew what situations held a chance at victory. And, truth be told, he’d had little reason to get into fights with women in the past. In Brakmar, a woman could slit your throat if you looked at her wrong, but at least she didn’t scream at you. Kriss had never signed up for this kind of psychological warfare. 

“Normally that’s a great idea, but you’re forgetting one detail,” Jeremy whispered back.

“What?” Kriss asked, nervously looking around for an exit. He didn’t regret going against Felice’s wishes, but somehow he didn’t think she was open for an honest dialogue.

“She lives with us, sonny,” Genji said from his own stall.

That little tidbit had slipped his mind. For the first time Kriss found himself wishing Bonta had the same kind of attitude to mixing women and sports as Brakmar.

“The longer you make her wait, the worse,” Genji whispered. “She’s got the same temper as her mother, so don’t let her work up steam. Go in there and stop her from working herself up.”

“I uh-”

“KRISS!”

“Coming!” He shouted, and thought for a second. “Manager!” he added.

“Oh, smart thinking. Remember, Feli likes it when you respectfully admit your mistake,” Genji whisper-shouted after Kriss. “But don’t do it groveling, do it more like you’re still manly but ready to defer to her superior judgment.” 

The new team captain made sure his towel was in place - getting oggled openly once had been weird enough for their first day - and walked toward the door. He’d survived Gobball for so long. Surely one teensy verbal match with his manager wouldn’t be that bad? 

\--------------------------  
Felice’s day had started well. Her morning had been relaxing - minus one mishap - and the team was getting along great. She’d left behind the notes the guys would need for training while she’d gone to deal with what should have been a minor incident. Jules the innkeep wasn’t a bad man to do business with, but as an Enotroff he liked his Kwama’s. A lot. And while Felice had reminded him that payment would come after the team won another match, it seemed like he wanted another reassurement. And right when she’d managed to smooth out his ruffled feathers, more people showed up.

Felice could forgive almost any personal vice. But when it came to the former captain, certain things were unforgivable. Such as writing several IOU’s on the team name instead of his own, leading every single brothel and sports apparel store to hound her at random intervals. She had spent what could have been a nice day arguing with people who would be paid when, who would be paid partially and who would end up not being paid at all. In the end she had a comprehensive knowledge of Bonta law, as well as a distaste for anyone who forced her to use it.

Coming back to the training field she’d felt sorry for missing out on their first day of training, all the way until she ended up crossing paths with a group of teens who congratulated her on finding a team captain with ‘mad skillz’. After some careful questioning Felice knew enough that the team had elected to ignore her instructions.

“KRISS!” she shouted, aware of vehement whispering going on behind the doors leading to the shower. On a good day, she might have frowned and tapped her foot without much being said. But today was a bad day and Kriss was sadly in her crossfire.

A by now familiar face peered from behind the door, a few stray soap bubbles popping in the air behind him. Kriss tried a suave smile, which was ruined by the soap bar which suddenly sailed over his head. It skid to a halt in front of Felice’s feet. Someone had carved the words ‘Good luck Cap’ in it.

“Manager,” Kriss started, bravely wearing his smile. “You wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yes, Kriss. I want to talk to you,” Felice replied, crossing her arms over one another and tapping a foot impatiently.

The as of yet untested captain completely emerged from the showers, wearing a pair of white shower slippers and a white towel, wrapped securely around his waist. Fine white hairs formed his happy trail, leading down into the towel, still glistening with moisture. Felice allowed herself a moment to enjoy the view before resuming her frown. Kriss walked to her, the initial nervousness turning to a saunter after he’d noticed the second she’d dropped her defences. “Sure, Felice,” he said with an easier smile, and then returning to a more neutral expression when she frowned at hearing her name.

“I’m disappointed,” Felice started, still tapping her foot. “I left you guys with what I thought to be a clear expression of what I thought my wishes were.”

“I know,” Kriss agreed with her.

“And to be fair, I have my reasons for starting easy. Your next match is less than three days away and I just can’t afford any of you to get hurt. Especially since your next opponents are hardly what I’d call challenging,” Felice continued, ignoring what she supposed were arguments.

Kriss nodded, the expression on his face changing from playful and unimpressed to more thoughtful. “What?”

“My analysis has shown that any newly formed team should take it easy, and that an accident during the initial period can seriously impact how your team views you. I know you’re a Sacrier but that’s really no excuse to be careless. If you were to seriously get injured, or if it happened to one of the others, we’d be chanceless against even a basic team like the Bow Meowers,” Felice continued, running a hand through her hair. 

The captain seemed disconcerted at this sharing of in depth information. “Well, you’re right. Absolutely correct. I was wrong and I admit it.”

Felice stopped talking, realizing he was agreeing with her. This seemed strange, and she’d lived together with a team of men long enough to know if someone was pulling her leg. And then it happened. Behind her, her grandfather whispered so loudly he might as well have been shouting. “That’s the way to take it like a man, sonny. I think she believes you, so-”

“Oh so that’s how it is?!” Felice shouted, knowing it couldn’t have been that simple.

Kriss carefully raised his hands. “Oh, no, Felice, you’ve got it wrong. You’ve made some good points and I-”

Kriss backed away toward the lockers, Felice following him as her heels clicked on the tiles, grateful for how she was slightly taller than him in these. Slamming her hand on the locker behind him when she was close enough, she leaned in. She hated having to be the bitch but if was the only way of stopping these guys from hurting themselves too much…

Kriss swallowed, his white eyes clearly trailing from the hand that extended over his shoulder to her face. Though it was impossible to tell, she could have sworn he stared at her lips for a second. At this distance Felice could smell the soap he’d used in the shower. “Well?” she asked, trying not to stare at his lips, since she did have pupils that would definitely betray her. _And whatever you do, don’t stare at the happy trail or he’ll definitely figure out you think he’s man candy._

“Manager, I need to get some things straight. I’m used to playing in a team and I know how to be a captain. I need to know what these guys are capable of,” Kriss said, shifting away from the cold locker behind him and moving closer to her. “So I’m not really sorry about doing what I did. If you’re that concerned with how the team is performing, just let me know ahead of time.”

Felice let out a breath, closing her eyes. She’d been so used to having to spell out everything, she’d forgotten what it was like with an actually motivated captain. “Uhn… maybe communication could have been better.” She looked back at Kriss, who did seem more sincere at this point. Her frown returned. “But I’m still the manager. So I do expect you to comply with my wishes when we’re not in an active match.”

“Heh,” Kriss smiled. “Is that still open for debate?”

“Not if you want to have an easy time as a captain,” Felice said truthfully. Her eyes strayed to his lips and immediately darted away, landing on his goatee. She must have startled him out of the shower because there were still some soapy suds clinging to the hair. It did provide her with a chance though. Reaching out with her index finger and thumb she gently gave the goatee a tug. “You missed a spot, captain.”

Surprised he followed her touch with his hand, eyes widening and… was that the beginning of a blush darkening his cheeks? 

Thud.

Something heavy and slightly moist landed on her feet. Instinctively both Felice and Kriss looked down. Her eyes skid past the happy trail that started underneath his belly button, until her eyes looked straight down. Kriss’ towel had slipped of, dropping down. In contrast to the white fabric was his tan skin, and a part of his anatomy she’d already seen a hint of earlier that day. While not erect, it certainly wasn’t limp either. _Looks like someone doesn’t mind being pushed up against a locker._

Felice jerked her head back up, looking straight into Kriss’ eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but words were in short supply. At the same time he seemed to be waiting for her to say something. As if burned she pulled her hand back, almost brushing past his shoulder. Tension rose as neither dared move, and Felice willed herself to keep her eyes on his face. “I-” she finally started.

“So this is what the cap and manager are up to!” Jeremy shouted from behind them.

Turning around Felice saw the entire team had gathered to watch their little exchange, which included her grandfather. “It’s not what it looks like,” she protested, turning around and at least shielding Kriss’ reaction to her from the rest of the group. Felice had to endure the following catcalls and hoots with a hot head.

Last week she hadn’t thought being a manager could get harder. But she hadn’t counted on Kriss then. Damn her luck.


	3. Play To Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team plays their first match, Felice gets Kriss' head back in the game and I promise the next chapter will be longer.
> 
> Also, cool things happen when you click the kudos button, just saying.
> 
> Next update on the 24th of november!

_Extract from the Iop guide to battle : … and in the same way a leader must know when to command and when to retreat. All Iop love the savor of battle, but a Iop leader must share these joys with others and ensure all can participate. As such different leaders take charge at different times, ensuring victory._

Felice paced back and forth at the south entrance, the guys waiting behind her. The mood wasn’t what you could call relaxed; with this being the inaugural match for Kriss’ captainship, the atmosphere had been bound to be somewhat tense. And ever since _that_ had happened, she’d been unable to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds. For days she’d been sneaking around the house or heading off to various classes and meetings, trying to not be in one room alone with him. _What a time to be assaulted by hormones._

Outside the crowds were restless, people chattering while vendors unloaded various goods to an eager audience. Felice wrung her hands, knowing that a lot rode on this match. Apart from the team’s reputation - one she had been carefully cultivating for two years - there was also her grandfather’s joy at stake. He loved playing, and winning for the first time with a newly composed team always made him happy.  
And yet… winning would mean she’d have to be subjected to that dumb tradition again. Even if she had her own reasons for wanting to win, winning now really would be better if she could count on another sure win in the next round.

“You okay, Feli?” Jeremy asked her, touching her arm.

She smiled down at the small Iop. “I’m fine. Just pre-match jitters.” And then, aware the rest of the team was watching her, “Of course we’re going to kick some ass today, right guys?”

“Yeah!” the enthusiastic response came. 

She turned her attention back to the arena, where the commentator was just now getting ready to introduce the match. Kriss approached, standing next to her to peer through the gaps of cloth hiding them from view. He didn’t say anything, but Felice was very aware of his presence.

“Once the match starts, it’ll be up to you… Captain,” she said, glancing to her side. She would have to look him in the eye at one point again. Might as well start now. 

He glanced back at her, big white eyes looking excited. The dark purple makeup around his eyes gave him a wilder look, especially since he’d taken care to arrange his hair in careful spikes. “I can handle it.” He paused, as if unsure his next comment would be welcomed after their rather tense relationship in the past few days. “Are you going to be okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Felice blushed, hands immediately busying themselves with making sure she was presentable. In comparison to Kriss who was wearing the Lambchester ensemble, she was in a light red blouse and golden pencil skirt, her hair once again tied up in an artful bun. Her reading glasses perched on her nose, allowing her to peer over them. “Is it that obvious?” she asked in horror. She’d been working hard on hiding her social anxiety.

When she didn’t get snarky, Kriss gave a lopsided smile. “Nah. Just a lucky guess. You’ll do great too.”

Felice heard the cue signaling it was her turn to come out. She turned to Kriss quickly, and after a moment of hesitating, touched his arm lightly. “Take care of my guys out there.”

\----------------------

Kriss was surprised at the very light touch, but not half as much as at the sudden gentle eye contact. For days Felice had been avoiding him, to the point where he wondered if she really was that angry at him for messing up their training. Even after they’d talked it out - in a fashion where neither of them really wanted to concede to the other - she’d kept running away. For some reason she’d also piled extra trainings on the team without her supervision. Kriss wondered if he should take it as a sign she was avoiding another fight with him, or if she had decided to trust in his judgment as team captain.

“Is she okay?” Kriss asked as Felice walked over the field, her gold-colored heels flashing with every step. The outfit looked uncomfortable, especially when he considered his own clothes.

Her grandfather stood next to him, peering to see his granddaughter go. In the background the commentator introduced ‘Felice Quickstep Sotare, the first gobball player to master color-coded training schedules’. Her grandfather puffed up at hearing the nickname. “She earned that in the second match she played with us, you know. If she didn’t have her grandmother’s temper, she would have made a great gobbowler. She’ll be fine, cap’. Feli’s just not good with crowds.”

Kriss watched as Felice smiled and waved at the audience. While he hadn’t seen her smile much, the look on her face was too polite in his eyes to be genuine. Then the manager of the other team was introduced and Kriss let out a low whistle. “Looks like we’re already winning when comparing managers,” he commented, before realizing he was talking to Felice’s grandfather. “Err.”

“That old sleezeball,” Genji huffed. “Of course my Feli has got him beat. You’ve got a good eye for managers, cap’.”

Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the tension that Kriss felt hanging between them. If annoyance, slight fear and arousal could be felt at the same time, he’d gotten a good taste of it in the shower room. He watched as the two managers performed a standoff-ish pantomime, something which was highly appreciated by the audience.

“My boys will make lamb chops outta your team!” The opposing coach said, grabbing for the mike. 

As the commentator yanked the mike away from the opposing coach, Felice deftly swiped it from the air in a gesture too practiced to be coincidence. “Pretty big words, coming from a team called the Qwuacklings!”  
The crowd on their side of the stadium burst out in loud hoots and jeers. Felice held a hand up to her ear. “What’s that? I thought we had some fans here today. Is this stadium empty?”  
Another cheer as Felice continued. “Because we have a brand new captain playing today, and I sure as hell didn’t bring Kriss la Krass to play for an empty stadium.”

More shouting as the crowd sensed they were nearing the start of their favorite sport. Kriss was impressed with how Felice managed the crowd. “I thought she was nervous.”

“Feca, my boy. She’s protecting our reputation now, so she can’t afford to back down.”

“I do not remember-” Felice said, turning away from the commentator and the opposing manager while the former danced around her in an attempt to grab the mike from her hands. “I do not remember inviting a star player from Brakmar to play with the big boys in Bonta-” a loud cheer here- “in an empty stadium. So does my main man, Kriss la Krass, have some fans here?”

“I thought she didn’t like me,” Kriss thought. 

When Genji replied, he realized he’d spoken out loud. “What are you talking ‘bout? Feli likes ya just fine. She’s just shy in situations she can’t practice for.”

“You’d better keep cheering, because here is Lambchester Uuuuuuuuniiiiiiiiteeeeeeed!!” Felice finished, jumping up and down on her high heels as if wasn’t in danger of breaking her neck while doing it. The official commentator finally managed to grab the mike from her hands, jumping along with her to grab it.  
Kriss and the rest of the team had taken advantage of this introduction to run out on the field, intensifying the cheers of the crowd while soliciting the booing of the opposing team’s fans. Monty bashed his shield against the side of his head in response, sending splinters flying around. Jeremy and Jay let out a war howl, while Genji sprinted circles around their team, throwing up a cloud of dust.

Kriss hardly noticed any of this. Right now all he heard and saw was the cheering of the crowd, the thundering applause that sent shivers through his spine and the stamping of feet on wooden benches that almost brought the house down. This was what he had wanted even since he’d gotten his real taste of gobball all those years ago. This was why he’d come to Bonta. It was what he’d wanted to share with Maud. The familiar little ache came back when he thought about his mentor, nearly souring this first round of applause.

The opposing team appeared, a collection of five Ouginak, each one of them seemingly built to kill. Kriss at once turned to them, happy to see that his opponents looked like they meant business. The idea of a good match got his blood boiling.

Right up until the moment where one of the Ouginak sneezed so hard their fake teeth fell out. “What the?”  
The moment was followed by another one scratching themselves violently, hinting that fleas might be the least disgusting thing they were carrying. “What the hell is going on here?”

“What do you mean, HYGIENE IS FOR SUCKERS? WHAT KIND OF MANAGER ARE YOU?” 

Kriss heard Felice shout from the sidelines. Tilting his head to the side he just saw her flinging a pencil at the opposing manager, who didn’t quite manage to dodge, while the commentator reminded her that only active players were allowed to be violent. Kriss couldn’t suppress a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth at the sight. Then he turned back to their opponents with a sinking feeling. This was going to be a letdown of a match.

\-------------

In the end, Kriss had been right, but just barely. What the Qwuacklings had lacked in basic hygiene they made up for in teamwork, while Lambchester had some great moves and less than stellar passes. As Kriss almost fumbled the ball he was awkwardly aware of their manager who was trying very hard not to eat her notebook in frustration.  
And, if Kriss was honest, his head wasn’t not a hundred percent in the game. After every goal, either his own, that of a teammate or even that of an opponent, he’d scan the audience, hoping to see the face of a familiar Sram. Because there had to be a chance that Maud could have followed him, right? Wasn’t it possible she would have ditched the Masked Gobballer and chosen a future where she could openly enjoy the sport? A future she could share with him? _Be here Maud, c’mon. I miss you._

The ball zoomed by his head, and Kriss realized he’d been spacing out. The crowd inhaled sharply at the move as Kriss started to run. At that exact moment the gong struck the end of the third quarter.  
The teams moved back to their sides of the field for a breather while above them the crowd broke out in a murmur. Kriss sat down on the bench for a moment, taking the chance to look down at the ground. _She’s not here man. Just give it a gods be damned rest._

“Monty, great block in the first minute, keep it up,” Felice said as she walked down the line. “Jay, don’t overexert yourself in throwing, the team can’t keep up if you pass that far. Poppy, Jeremy, you’re looking great.”  
A pair of golden-tinted heels paused in front of him. Kriss imagined he could feel the disappointment radiating from Felice. _Another woman I’ve managed to disappoint_ , he thought, embracing his inner drama queen.

Then Felice squatted down, leaning her head to the side so she could see his face. A stray lock of hair had escaped her bun, curling over her shoulder. _She doesn’t look angry_ , he thought. For a moment there was even a flash of concern in her eyes. “Kriss,” she started. “Only twelve more minutes to go, and we’re two points ahead. We’ve got this.”

No scolding? He’d expected her to have his hide by now. “Yeah, I know,” he answered, not knowing what else to say.

Her deep blue eyes searched his face, only he didn’t know what she was looking for. Then she stood up and clunked his head with her fist. “If you know, you’d better hustle out there or I’ll have you running laps for the rest of the week. Got it? These people came to see a nanny’s tits be damned show, la Krass. Get on that field and give them what they want!”

Kriss looked up, eyes watering as he rubbed the inevitable bump rising on his head. As the swelling reduced only seconds after, he blinked slowly. Felice raised her eyebrows, fists planted on her hips. “Well?”

Kriss relaxed, letting some tension seep from his muscles. “Sure thing, manager.”

“Great,” Felice said, turning around to look at the opposing field. “Cause I don’t want to have to pretend I’m a good loser to that guy.” She turned back to the team with a softer look. “Just make it a good match, okay guys? Our seats are reserved tonight, so let’s walk into the Golden Gobball with a victory in our pockets.”

“Well,” Genji said, standing up and making his joints pop. “When little Feli asks, who are we to decide otherwise?”

Kriss got up, meeting Felice’s eyes over her glasses. “Bad loser, huh?”

He was met by a grin. “The worst.”

Something twisted in his stomach at the sight of Felice grinning freely at him. It could have been the sudden glint of sunlight on her glasses, or the way that one long lock of hair curled against her neck. Whatever it was, he quickly stomped it down. “Then we’ll win.”

And so Kriss did play to win. The last quarter of the match passed quicker than he thought, both teams using their power boosts with reckless abandon and dirty moves quickly escalating to new levels. After scoring a triple goal - with Jay illegally launching gobballs from a basket near the field - the final whistle was blown. When the dust cleared the scoreboard was revealed. They had won by a total of five points ahead, an obvious victory. His first victory as the Lambchester United captain. That thought hit him like a gobball in the stomach; his team had won. Jay grabbed him, hugging him so tight Kriss heard his bones crack. Jeremy squeezed his hand while both Monty and Genji slapped his ass hard enough to make it snap.   
Best of all, the crowd was cheering. Here and there he heard his name, solidifying in patches. It wasn’t a complete victory, but they were getting there.


	4. Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felice and Kriss get a little bit closer, we get a look at the competition and some people are going to wake up with hangovers.
> 
> Next update on the 22d of December!

_Sacrier’s Blood prizes victory over all._

“And today’s winners, proceeding to the finals next week, Lambchester United!” the Enutroff behind the bar shouted when Felice and the guys walked in the bar. She raised her hand in greeting, waving the guys to the team’s booth where dinner was already waiting for them. She herself walked to the bar, hand on the heavy pouch tied to her belt. As she moved, several other players congratulated her before they moved on to talk with the Lambchester players. Most of them were excited to meet a new captain, while some were no doubt hoping to obtain possible intel.

The Golden Gobball had been the place to be for gobball teams ever since the sport had become established. It was tradition that the aftermath of any match was celebrated here, no matter which team had been playing or who had won. If a player was conscious enough to attend they would. Legend had it one player had died on the field and stipulated their carcass be brought to the afterparty anyway. It was a place where legends weren’t made, but they were highly embellished.  
Built with the finest woods, a delicate cream shade of the most fragrant forests, it was kept clean without becoming posh. And while it saw hard use, the Enutroff owners knew a gold mine when they saw one. No matter how much money they poured in, it magically multiplied as the place became a hotbed for bets, business and rivalries. Anything worth knowing in Bonta happened here. Anything worth being involved in started on an aftermatch night. And anybody worth dealing with made sure to be seen here.

“Jules,” she greeted, placing her arms on the high counter. “I see you didn’t completely lose hope at our chances of winning.”

“We both know I could have easily moved that food to a different table, Sotare,” the Enutroff shot back, already holding a hand out for payment.

Felice sighed, slipping her hand in the heavy pouch and returning with a handful of golden Kwama. “Enough for tonight, plus a more than reasonable down payment on the debt.”

Jules took one of the Kwama, biting it. “One more win and you’ll be in the green again. And the drinks?” he asked, swiping the payment behind the counter where it fell in a big bag, tinkling as gold fell upon gold.

Felice gave it a split-second of thought. “Everyone’ll be paying for their own drinks tonight.” She paused, thinking over her options once more. “Except for la Krass, you can put him on my tab.”

The barkeep whistled, ducking underneath the table to find liquor for a different client. “Your new captain’s a Sacrier, girl. They don’t take any damage and I think that includes their liver.”

Felice thought it over again, but came up with the same conclusion. “Put him on my personal tab.”

“You sure about that? He’s going to put a dent in your allowance,” Jules crooned, not worried about Felice changing her mind. Once she’d made a decision, she stuck with it.

Felice turned around, leaning against the counter as she splayed one hand on top of it. “He can’t screw me over worse than the previous captain. In fact, bring the team a round on me to start with. We are celebrating tonight.”  
Or at least, that’s what it had to look like. Felice wasn’t happy about the way the match had gone. The teamwork had been sloppy, with missed passes and the other team getting far too many chances to score. Jules handed her a drink - soda with honey and the tiniest smidge of bamboo milk - and she sipped it, contemplating Kriss as he carefully looked over their dinner.

He had been distracted on the field, staring up at the audience every few seconds as if he were looking for someone. A parent, perhaps? Or a sibling? Or even a lover? _He isn’t exactly badlooking,_ Felice admitted to herself, _if one’s type was an attention whoring know it all who thought making weird faces was going to garner the heart of the crowds._ That was a tad mean. _He might have his faults,_ Felice thought, _and he certainly is the type to permanently lodge his foot in his mouth, but at least he tried to be nice._ It wasn’t his fault she’d been stressed recently. And she had been pretty much sexually harassing him on accident, without him making her feel awful about it. He had some good points.

_Fine, he's attractive. There brain, I admitted it._

Another sip, and then Jules moved to the team table with the ordered drinks. Felice followed behind him, entering the small void that opened up and closed behind the corpulent barkeep. Occasionally she would shake a hand or nod her head; promising a talk later, after dinner. It was at these moments that business deals were made, both for the team and for her family’s farm. While the team worked on the field, she did her work off of it. And, she realized with a hint of satisfaction, years of hard training had at least garnered a result, even if it wasn’t in the way her mother had envisioned.

“First drinks are on your manager, boys,” Jules said, passing around mugs of bamboo milk. “But after that, most of you are on your own.” 

“Cheers Feli!” Monty said before diving nose first in his own mug. Felice cringed at seeing the Ouginak’s snout disappear, fearing that he might accidentally drown himself.

During dinner she sipped her drink delicately, aware that she had to keep a steady mind when the time for business came. She discreetly passed on any drinks sent to her by shopkeepers to her players, the latter being grateful for the free booze. Wary of any tricks that could be played by other managers, she made sure to eat plenty to counteract any spiked drinks later on the evening.

Their first public dinner together as a team couldn’t have gone better, a welcome change after the disaster that had been the match. They were seen as a unit, something which strengthened the Feca in Felice. As the guys conversated among each other she observed, keeping an eye out for the reaction of other teams. Most players seemed wary about the new captain in their midst, and some even seemed friendly. There was hardly any hostility, apart from-

“Sotare, I was hoping I’d run into you here,” a familiar voice came.

The sound immediately sent all the wrong chills down her spine. Dealing with other Feca who came from her mother’s domain was tiring to say the least. Raising her chin she glanced to the side. “Firipe. Hope implies a chance I would not show up.”

Firipe shrugged, standing a few feet away from the Lambchester booth, surrounded by his three of his teammates. All of them were Feca, all of them knew Felice. And all of them weren’t exactly glaring, but those sure weren’t smiles on their faces.  
“You’ve already proven you don’t care much about tradition.” The words were sharp little stingers, digging directly where it hurt. In response to them, the bar went quiet like a whisper.

The words were provocation, and the Lambchester team quickly took notice. All but Kriss were already aware of exactly how she and Firipe got along, but even Kriss didn’t hesitate to pause finishing dinner to glare at what was an obvious challenger. Felice found the support from her team touching as always and turned back to Firipe so she could get this nasty business underway.

“Well?” she asked, taking a final sip from her goblet to hide her nerves.

Firipe grinned in what he supposed was a charming way. “I, Firipe Medawa, hereby propose a bet to Felice Sotare. If Lambchester United manages to beat Amulephaunts, I solemnly swear to stop making this bet. But if I win, Felice Sotare will accompany me on a date.”

Felice spat on her hand, the hesitation she had felt in the past for this challenge long having left her. Firipe did the same, mashing their hands together in a wet, sucking noise. With the sound came a renewal of murmurs in the bar, the other teams satisfied that even this little ritual had been completed again. Firipe smiled brightly, glancing at their table. “Mind if I join you for dinner?”

“Family dinner, no outsiders invited,” Felice said sweetly, sharply turning back to her team. She found herself wishing she’d gotten with them sooner so she could sit at the center of the booth instead of at the outer rim.

“When you’re done then,” Firipe suggested.

Monty immediately waved his mostly empty plate in the air. “Jules, hit me up again! I am starving!”

Jeremy stood up on his spot, waving an empty tankard. “I am parched, I feel like I could drink for hours.”

Genji remained silent, and for a split second the tension rose to a new high as Firipe took the older man’s silence as agreement that he could take a place. Then Kriss slammed his hands on the table, sending a ripple through the hushed talks that had only just recommenced. Pupilless eyes scanned the room. “As new team captain, I declare we are having another round of everything. And until then, no fraternizing with other teams.”

Firipe laughed at the statement. “A captain that stands up for the manager. This has to be a first for you, Sotare.”

Felice smiled thinly, foregoing a response. The betrayal of the previous captain still stung, a testament to how poor a manager she must actually be. Having delivered his last jab, Firipe drifted off toward the Amulephaunt booth.  
The Lambchesters settled down again as conversations around the room started up again. After Jules indeed brought over another round of literally everything - and Felice already dreaded to see the latest bill appear - she moodily prodded the salad nearest to her.

“So…” Kriss started from over his newest bowl of soup, looking very much the opposite of hungry. “Does anyone want to tell me what that was about?”

“That-” Felice said, disdain dripping from the word. “Was a Feca thinking he can impose rights on me because we happened to grow up on the same domain.”

“That-” her grandfather said; “was a young man who would know how to take care of you, Feli.”

Felice turned her eyes to her grandfather, not happy about the insinuation that she needed someone who knew how to take care of her. “That doesn’t change that I don’t want him, poppy. Something which should have been obvious after the first time I said no.”

“Unwanted fuckboy, got it,” Kriss said, before taking a bite of his soup. When both Felice and her grandfather turned to look at him, he threw his hands up in defense. “What, as if I haven’t seen this kind of situation before? I come straight from Brakmar, and trust me, women there have it rough too.”

Felice immediately reviewed her impression of Kriss, bumping him up from well meaning and tolerable to someone who could become her friend in time. Clearing her throat she smiled. “Thank you, Kriss. Now that we’ve discussed the situation, shall we continue our meal? There’s quite a bit to get through.”

Their meal passed in relative silence after that, which made Felice aware of how her personal problem was responsible for the current mood. As soon as the food on their table had lessened, Felice excused herself. After a few steps she was swamped by people who had been hoping to talk to her. She received compliments about her new captain - which she planned on forwarding to Kriss later, positive he would appreciate them - and then started to talk business. This ranged from arrangements on which team would be having dibs on what training field to possible friendly matches, a variety of newly proposed audience booby traps and possible visits from Gobball players to certain stores.  
Felice talked, making notes in her ever present notebook with her pencil and highlighters, promising to get back to certain proposals while rejecting others out of hand. All the while she had to be careful to not be too eager, not be too enthusiastic. When the hand of one of the other managers slipped past her arms toward her chest, she ‘accidentally’ stepped on his foot, ‘accidentally’ nearly puncturing a hole in his shoe with her stiletto. Then, with a smile, she said, “So the Lambchesters can take the middle training field for the whole of Tirdas, right? That is so cool of you.” She shook his hand with a fake smile, sealing the deal in front of all other managers.  
Walking away, she overheard a few snippets of conversation between the men.

“-total bitch.”  
“Can’t take a compliment really.”  
“This is exactly why you don’t see a lot of women managers,” the last comment was spoken so loudly, Felice was certain she had been meant to overhear.

Whatever. It wasn’t as if this opinion was either new or that particularly vexing. Women players were rare in gobball, yes, but the number was slowly increasing. As for managers, Felice was sure she wouldn’t be the last one. But for now she had to grit her teeth and remain convincing. Even if it meant wearing pinchy stiletto heels for an entire evening, or reading glasses that made her seem more mature. Walking around the room in an attempt to find a place to sit, she saw Monty and Jeremy play a friendly game of darts with some other gobballers, while her grandfather chatted up a waitress near the bar. A second scan of the room revealed a shock of white hair, the spikes slowly losing their height as the evening progressed. At first Felice thought Kriss was in the process of chatting up a waitress as well, until she saw the captain was the one being cornered by a new fan.

Felice decided to give Kriss a chance to escape, if he wanted it. If it turned out he wanted the attention, she could resume her attempts at finding a place to sit. She crossed the room, warily waving away further attempts of business to be created. It would have to wait until after she had saved one of her teammates. Kriss saw her coming, and she judged from the way he sat up straighter in his seat that he did want to be rescued. Felice conjured up a smile, ready to tap the newly minted fangirl on the shoulder.

And found someone grabbing her wrist instead. “You look tired, Sotare.” Looking around, Felice found Firipe again. Her hated childhood acquaintance had been sitting in the circle of chairs next to Kriss, only she’d completely missed him sitting there. He gestured to his lap. “I’ve been keeping this seat free for you all evening.”

Felice yanked her hand loose, while behind her Kriss started to speak. “Look buddy,”

“He has a point,” Felice said quickly, turning back to Kriss. “I do want to sit down.” Then she gestured to Kriss. “So, is this seat taken?”

Her point was entirely missed by Kriss, who started to get up. “Oh, you can sit down if you want-”

“Excellent!” Felice exclaimed, plopping down in Kriss’ lap before he could completely stand up. The both of them clunked back down on the chair, Kriss’ hand instinctively rising to her back to steady her.

Large, white eyes stared at her for a second as the Sacrier seemed to experience a short circuit. “Uh, yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Felice glanced to Kriss’ new found fan and gave the young woman a friendly wave. “I need to borrow this guy for a while. But tell Jules I said to treat you to a drink, okay?”

The woman seemed slightly peeved at the interruption, but also didn’t feel like getting into an argument over a gobball player when the place was crawling with them. For a second the woman’s glance moved to Firipe, and Felice felt a sparkle of hope crawl in her stomach. Then the promise of a free drink won and the woman left.

“Sotare, please. There’s no need to be so childish,” Firipe said, casting a disparaging look to Kriss.

Felice glared, aware she was sitting rather stiffly on Kriss’ knees. “And yet there’s a hint here to be found, Firipe. So get it. Eep!” One of Kriss’ hands hooked underneath her knees, the other one pushing just above her behind. The motion scooped her closer to him, moving from his knees to his actual lap.

Catching her surprised glance, Kriss looked rather bemused. “It’s more comfortable if you sit there.” And then, lower so Firipe couldn’t overhear, “Felice, are you drunk?”

“I’m more of an impulsive idiot,” she replied in the same hushed tone.

“Oh,” Kriss said, leaning back. The hand that had been under her legs moved to his chin, where he stroked past his goatee once. “I can work with that.”  
The hand that had been placed above her behind now moved to rest on her hip, his fingers splayed slightly apart to help her keep her balance. In the same time he raised his eyebrows quickly, checking her face to see if this was okay for her.

Felice relaxed then, and gave a genuine smile. “Thanks.”

Firipe coughed, demanding attention from the conspiring pair. “There really is no need for you to behave so stubbornly. We’ve already gone on several dates, and it’s widely known we would make a good match-”

“If we really were a good match, I would not be sitting where I am now,” she shot back at once. When was this guy going to catch a hint?

\-----------------

It was a bit ridiculous how grateful Felice looked when Kriss played along with her ostentatious rejection of her suitor, Kriss thought as he leaned back. As he’d placed his hand on her hip, he’d expected a frown or some sort of remark she didn’t need that much help. Instead she’d smiled, a more real smile than any he’d seen from her since he’d set foot in Bonta.  
Kriss wasn’t going to lie, it felt good to be needed by someone. While he was still patching up his heart, he thought flirting too much with fans would be a bad idea. But Felice was his manager, and contrary to the idea he’d gotten from their first interactions, she did seem like the kind of person that was nice once you got to know them. And there was something to be said about bouncing a pretty woman on his knee.

He was woken from his thoughts as her cool hand gently touched his knee. Looking past her, he saw that the spot Firipe had occupied previously was now home to two Pandawa, locked in a passionate kiss. He glanced back at Felice, who withdrew her hand from his knee. “So, what is his deal?”

Felice sighed. “Like I said, he thinks that growing up on the same domain as me gives him special rights. And it doesn’t help that right now I’m not at home anymore.”

“Why?” Kriss asked, reached to the small table next to him to grab his mug of bamboo milk, which for some reason kept being refilled by the innkeep. Even his Sacrier blood couldn’t keep up completely with this many refills, and now he was building up a little buzz. Perhaps that was the reason he didn’t remove his hand from Felice’s hip.

She seemed surprised at the question. “Not that many Feca at the Sidimote Moors?”

It was his turn to be surprised. “How’d you know where I grew up?”

His manager pressed her index finger to his chest, rumpling the pale linen of his shirt. “If you think that I wouldn’t find out everything I could about the new captain, you were wrong. Not that there’s a lot to find.” Felice pouted, before accepting a glass with her preferred beverage. “For someone who’s, and I will deny saying this out loud, a bit of a prodigy with a gobball, you lived on the down low for a long time. All I could find out about you was where you grew up and that your dad was pretty much a legend.”

Kriss couldn’t help but grin at the praise, both for himself and his dad. “That’s right. You could say it runs in the family. Impressed?” 

Felice hid her smile behind her glass. “Perhaps,” she said in a tone that confessed the positive. 

Pride bloomed in his stomach, and Kriss placed his hand from Felice’s hip nearer to her waist when someone threatened to bump into her from behind. _Soft and warm, and very much female to his touch._ “That’s unfair. You know more about me than I know about you.”

“Oh, well… there’s not that much to say,” Felice said, fidgeting. The wiggling chafed the linen of his pants against his upper thighs, but Kriss wasn’t going to complain about a fine woman fidgeting in his lap. “I’m from the Feac Domain, not too far from here if you take one of the portals. As for why Firipe keeps bugging me, usually Feca women are supposed to stay home if we’re the eldest daughter. Me being here is a pretty big break from tradition.”

“Tradition is that important still?” Kriss asked, at the moment a cheer broke out behind them. Felice leaned closer to him, cupping her ear with a hand so she could hear him better. He repeated his question, noting that her ears were rounded, unlike his.

When she heard his question, she nodded, leaning so she could talk into his ear. Her breath smelled like honey and bamboo milk. “In some families, yeah.”  
Someone clapped her on the back then, sending her to bump nose first against his cheek. The sudden contact sent a jolt through him, and as the Feca pulled away she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I keep causing trouble for you,” she confessed, the sudden flush on her cheeks betraying what she’d been thinking about.

Kriss remembered then too, including his awkward half boner at the time. “I uh- we’ve been bad at communication. That’s all.” Darn it, thinking about the half boner sent his mind spiraling in the wrong direction. _Keep it down, Kriss. No need for a consolation lay right now._ As he looked away from her face, his eyes landed on her shirt, where one button had become undone during the course of the evening. That… was not helping. Still, his gaze ran appreciatively over the discreet display of what promised to be a very fine bosom. Although… a consolation lay didn’t sound very bad. If Felice offered, he’d love to see what she was hiding underneath the prim and proper outfit. Hopefully something that was easy to take of.

“Here you are!” Jay shouted, waving wildly as he discovered his captain and manager together. “Over here!” He shouted again to the other side of the room. Jeremy and Monty appeared, one bearing a tray of tall mugs filled with bamboo milk and the other one having dragged Genji away from the waitress he’d been chatting up.

“We haven’t had a good old fashioned chug yet to celebrate our new captain,” Monty said, passing out the mugs. Kriss felt Felice move to stand up, but then saw Firipe from the other side of the room. The man was staring at Felice.  
Pressing his hand against Felice’s waist, Kriss managed to keep her sitting. She followed his look across the room, shrugged and then made herself more comfortable by draping one arm around his neck, leaning against him. It felt nice; Felice’s body temperature was cool even in this hot bar, and she smelled faintly like flowers. Not to mention she was soft and squeezable, just like a new gobball. Aware of that train of thought, Kriss quickly hid his face in his mug, acutely aware of Felice leaning toward him, giving a better look inside her cleavage without realizing it.

As she raised her glass in the air for a toast, Jay grabbed it and replaced it by a mug. “We all gotta drink the same thing, Feli!” the tall Iop exclaimed.

Felice glanced down in her glass, looking not disgusted but more doubtful. “I don’t know.”

“You can just drink the one,” Kriss said as his mug was replaced by a new one. “So, what are we drinking to?”

“To today’s victory!” Genji said, which prompted a good long drink from all the men, while Felice nipped at her mug.

“To next week’s victory!” Monty said, leading everyone to take another drink.

“To bringing home the cup!” Jeremy shouted, leading several other teams to boo the Lambchester team as all of the men downed their mugs. Even Felice took a good drink at that one. 

Half a mug of bamboo milk seemed to have loosened her up quite a bit. She raised her mug in the air, waiting for Kriss and his teammates to get their refills. “To…” and here she considered her words. “Our new captain, Kriss la Krass! To victory!”  
This toast actually led some of the rival players to drink to his health as well, something which was noted and appreciated by the currently lauded captain.

Kriss raised his own mug in response, this time waiting for Felice to get a refill. The woman accepted the mug without a qualm, her earlier hesitance forgotten. He cleared his throat, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. “To Felice Sotare, a first class manager! To winning it big!”

It was the start of their first round of toasts, but it wouldn’t be the end. While Kriss wouldn’t be remembering all of this night’s details, he wouldn’t forget feeling welcomed by Bonta, his teammates or his new manager.


	5. Let's Be Friends

_Excerpt from ancient texts : … And as Sacrier walked the sands in search of solace, the wind sliced her skin and she healed. So do her people recover from all wounds of the flesh, while those of the spirit must heal like those of any other race._

Pain swirled inside Felice’s head as she woke with the taste of old ash in her mouth. Blinking hurt as well so for a second she just lay there, pressing her head against the pillow and praying to Feca that this hangover would leave her soon. Then she rolled to the side and that familiar feeling of falling returned. She fell on her collection of pillows on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.  
Memories slowly rolled in, like a tide lapping gently against her fevered nerves. It had started with making toasts while she sat on Kriss’ lap. Yes, she remembered that. She had done it in an attempt to chase away Firipe, and it had somewhat worked. She doubted she’d convinced that Feca that it was never going to work between them, but it had worked for one night.

_Kriss’ hand supporting her back, radiating warmth through her blouse._

With a groan she got up, placing a hand on her nightstand to find support. Felice found the can with water there, and placed it directly to her parched lips. After three long gulps she felt slightly better, although the urge to puke temporarily increased. Going on a binger had not been part of her original plan. After the toasts, someone had said that it was a shame Felice was a woman or she could have drunk with her men like a real manager.

Oh right, that had happened. Damn the need for her to be twice as good as any male manager, just so she could remain on the sidelines of the real action. Bleary-eyed, she sat on her knees and placed her arms on the nightstand. Her reflection in the tiny mirror looked disheveled, her long waving hair reduced to the unkempt mane of scarecrow. “Why do I even bother?” she asked her reflection.

She’d run away from the Feac domain, as much as one could run away when your mother was a demigod. She’d run to Bonta, which had been supposed to be a stepping stone to see the world. Instead Felice had gotten caught here in an agreement with her mother; if she could prove herself capable as the manager of her grandfather’s team, she would be free to go anywhere. Felice had thought it would be easy.  
Then Firipe had shown up, taking the final season cup time and time again. Before Felice knew it, Lambchester United was one of the most popular teams, affluent and well connected, with a household that was the most well oiled in the entire city… and they always came in second place. And then, to add injury to insult, that jerk Coyot had taken his chance to spend pretty much every Kwama they had while she was out of town on urgent family business.

But things were starting to look up again. While their last match hadn’t been fabulous, at least they had won. All members of the team got along, as evidenced by last night. The drinking amongst themselves had turned into singing at one point, but after a few notes their two Iops had picked a fight with a group of Sadidans near the bar. As if to protect her, Kriss had pulled her closer to his chest, the fine hair of his goatee tickling her forehead. His other hand had appeared on her leg, warm skin spreading a fine heat through her flesh.

And Felice supposed she would have to deal with her not quite chaste feelings for the new captain at one point in time. Right now she wasn’t in the mood for soul searching, but rather for something very light to eat and some rest. Looking behind her she saw that it was early evening again; she’d managed to sleep through an entire day. Just how much had she drunk?

\------------------

Kriss had been staring at his ceiling for quite a while now, with his arms crossed behind his head and one leg crossed over the other, tapping his foot in the air rhythmically. He’d woken up a few hours earlier, finding himself hungry more than hungover. One advantage of Sacrier’s Blood; as long as it wasn’t an actual sickness, his body recovered swiftly. When he’d looked in the mirror he saw he’d forgotten to wash of Felice’s writing on his face; while the yellow was hard to read on his tanned skin, the bold words “Bonta’s best captain” were still visible. It had taken him a good shower to get the writing of his skin, though he was sad to see it go. Downstairs he found most of his team members had gone, only Genji remaining with a pot of fresh soup and equally fresh bread.

_“Hold still, I’m trying to highlight,” Felice said, holding the highlighter gently between index finger and thumb.  
“Why?” Kriss asked, eying the bold yellow pen with a wary eye.  
She had leaned in closer, body temperature still cool and pleasant to the touch in a crowded bar. At that point she’d leaned forward so much her elbows leaned on his shoulders, her legs almost curled up completely in the chair as she sat on him. “Because you highlight important things.”_

While Kriss could have used his captain powers to get everyone back to the training field, they’d probably fare better if he let everyone nurse their aching heads for a bit. Instead he’d retreated to his room for some thinking.  
Maud hadn’t appeared magically after all. Kriss should have known she wouldn’t, but still… Frowning he pulled out the little wooden heart from underneath his pillow, holding it up in the red rays of sun. The light illuminated the carved runes in the wood, spelling out the qualities he’d liked in Maud. Steadfast… Grace… Intelligence… He ran his thumb over them, indulging his memories.

His dad had told him given your heart meant you couldn’t get it back. Did it count if the person you wanted to have it rejected the offering? A part of him stubbornly hoped that Maud would show up in Bonta and demand he come back with her to Brakmar. That she would appear in the crowd as he made a winning goal. That he could run into her while on his way to a training field.

Sighing he got out of bed and walked over to the window, to watch the sun as it descended into the ocean. He leant his head on his right hand, holding the carved heart in his left. Opening his palm, he stared at the little crafted object that was supposed to represent his entire self. After a while he became aware of a soft music coming from in front of him. The roof of Felice’s room stretched out in front of him, hiding the little porch that he’d found there a few mornings ago. Someone was playing the flute, he realized, while also watching the sunset.

Deciding he could use some distraction, Kriss carefully left the little heart on his windowsill and left through the window itself, sandaled feet landing carefully on the roof of Felice’s room. The light breeze felt good as it ruffled through his beige linen shirt and matching shorts. He stopped near the edge of the roof, looking over it.

Felice was sitting below him, feet dangling over the edge of the porch. This time her hair was in a single thick braid, hanging over her shoulder as she played a soft melody on a flute. Her outfit today wasn’t as strict as it usually was; a breezy mossy green tunic over some dark brown slacks, her feet bare as she was relaxing. It was obvious she wasn’t going anywhere either today. Next to her there was a large brass bowl, holding a red pillow.

“Hey there,” he said, unsure how his manager would react to him. _After she had finished drawing on his face, she’d smiled at him, a bright and happy smile. Her slim fingers had played with the collar of his shirt in a way that was between innocent and flirtatious. As her legs shifted, he’d caught sight of a garter belt and nearly choked on his bamboo milk._

Felice looked up, and without her usual reading glasses Kriss noticed for the first time how deep blue her eyes really were. He needn’t have worried; at once the corners of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Hello.” 

“Got room for me?” he asked, squatting near the edge of the roof. At her nod, Kriss let himself swing off the low roof, landing squarely on his feet. 

“Next time use the stairs, you might hurt yourself,” Felice scolded him lightly. From up close Kriss could see the signs of a receding hangover, though his memories from the night before informed him it could have been worse. _Felice, cheeks rosy with bamboo milk and a breath that smelled of honey, pressing a finger to his lips when he sang the wrong lyrics to a drinking game. He’d been tempted to lick a few stray drops of bamboo milk from her fingertip, barely holding back as it would have crossed the line between playful, friendly flirting and a full invitation._

His reply to the scolding was a grin, to which she huffed. Kriss picked up the large brass bowl, looking at Felice questioningly. “Is this bowl in any way related to you playing a flute?”  
Something small fell down, landing on the pillow in the bowl. Confused, Kriss looked to see what he had just caught.  
A tiny yellow Tofu bird angrily chattered at him, beating small wings while trying to stand up.

Felice stood up, looking inside the bowl as well. “I keep it there to catch baby birds that are learning to fly. This one,” she said, reaching inside and gently cradling the small creature, “is a late bloomer.” Then, her eyes turning into that special melty gaze all people got when looking at babies, her attention completely diverted to the baby Tofu. “Let’s get you back in your nest, okay sweetling?”

Kriss watched as Felice placed one foot on her own windowsill, hoisting herself up at a loose brick and then turning to the side, fastening his attention to a nest that was resting underneath the roof edge. With an annoyed chirp the Tofu was deposited in the nest, peering over the edge in an undeniable glare. Then Felice dropped down again, in a movement that suggested she’d done it so often it had become second nature. Catching Kriss looking at her, Felice looked away as if it it would make her seem less like a fairytale princess. “I just… they’re tiny and… learning to fly can’t be easy… It’s a Feca thing, okay!”

“Protecting the weak and innocent? I thought stereotypes were wrong?” Kriss asked in what he hoped she’d recognize as a playful tone.

“They are,” Felice whined, sitting back down. “But sometimes they’re right. Just don’t go telling people, I work very hard for my ‘bitch’ image.” When Kriss didn’t sit down she patted the wooden boards next to her. “Well, sit down. Now that you’ve found out my shameful secret you might as well stay and help. That Tofu will be dropping down a few more times before he’s got it right.”

Kriss sat down, only to have his manager arrange the bowl and pillow on his lap to make it ‘just right’, and realized he had a front row seat to some authentic Feca protectiveness. Finally satisfied, Felice leaned back and picked up her flute again, running her fingers up and down over the dark wood as the thought about what to play. Kriss leaned back, weight resting on his hands. “So, do you have more dark and shameful secrets I should know about?”

“I also volunteer in an orphanage on my days off, if you have to know,” Felice said with a deadpan face. 

Kriss chuckled. “That does sound pretty Feca, yeah. Not that it’s a bad thing.” He just didn’t know if it was a joke or not. It would be pretty cool if she did help out at an orphanage.

“I know,” Felice said with a smug look before bringing the flute to her lips. One breath later she played a few notes, testing the air. Below them the sea lazily crashed into the side of the mountain as a few Tofu flew by. Kriss couldn’t tell if minutes or hours went by, the atmosphere so different than the ones he was used to. Brakmar made you live at the edge of danger, expecting a knife punched into your back at any second and it was exciting. The Sidimote Moors were filled with tourists looking to suck up rays, turning the place into an invigorating mess. But Bonta was different, and it was in this moment that Kriss realized he’d never had a chance like this to relax.  
The Tofu bird dropped down again, prompting Felice to stop the simple melody she’d been playing. Her fingers delicately closed around the creature, making sure not to hurt the little bird as she hopped up again to put it back in the nest.

She sat down, staring at the ocean as the red rays mixed with the green hue of ocean water. “So, you wanna talk about it?” she asked, tapping the flute against her knee once.

“Huh?” he asked, his eyes flickering from the flute to her face and then to the ocean.

Felice settled back, very obviously trying to make eye contact with him. “You’ve had something on your mind since the day you got here. I mean, there’s the sighing, the gazing out of windows when you have a free moment. Not to mention you nearly got hit in the face a few times yesterday during the match. So, what gives?”

Kriss opened his mouth, ready to say he didn’t need to talk about it. Instead what came out was, “I really thought she’d show up.” Stracier be damned, why did he need to say THAT?

And why was he getting the look of sympathy? He hadn’t wanted anyone to look at him as if he needed sympathy. Felice resumed playing with the flute, gently running it in between her hands. “I thought you were waiting for someone. Ex-girlfriend?” she asked, with a look that was both sympathetic and a bit too knowing.

Well, he’d already said A, he might as well finish the fucking alphabet. “I wish,” he confessed, suddenly feeling like a huge fool. Why was he telling Felice this? Apart from that she’d asked in a way that made him think she was actually caring about his private ordeal. “I… we… Maud was the person who helped me get from a newbie that got lucky to someone who actually knew what he was doing. She’s crazy good at gobball, and she’s got guts. So I hoped that maybe she felt the same way about me.”

“But?” Felice encouraged him. 

“When I finally managed to show how I felt, she told me she was seeing the Masked Gobballer on a regular basis. And when I asked her if she didn’t want to leave Brakmar and take a chance here with me, she decided to stay behind. I don’t get it,” Kriss stared at the ocean, very aware of sudden pricking in his eyes that announced tears. Maybe if he stared at the sun, Felice would assume it was because he was just an idiot instead of an idiot with feelings. When it remained quiet, Kris resumed. “I mean, why stay in Brakmar? She can’t play gobball, the city is teeming with sexist idiots… is the Masked Gobballer really that important?” And then, the real question, “What does he have that I don’t?!”  
The silence next to him continued, but at this point Kriss was just raving at air, looking up in an attempt to hide half-formed tears. “So what if that guy is the best player that ever lived? What does that matter if she can’t play? And you know what, Maud didn’t even have to date me to come along. We could have stayed friends. But she is so good, and she deserves to play, way more than that masked idiot. But you know what? You know what?!   
I am better than that masked idiot, because I come out and show my face. I let people know my name, and when I screw up, people know who to blame!”

He stood up, the bowl and pillow falling to the ground. “Because I became a freaking captain of a great team, and I came to Bonta to really make it. And I’ll show everyone I’m twice the man that Masked Gobballer could ever hope to be!”

With a loud cheep, the Tofu bird landed on Kriss’ head, stopping him in his rant. Felice’s mouth formed a surprised little ‘o’ as Kriss sighed. “I’ll put him back.” First he rubbed his eyes with his fists, making sure every trace of tears was hidden. After that he found plucking up the little bird wasn’t as easy as it had looked; the little claws hooked in his hair and the body felt so fragile, he was afraid the least bit of pressure would snap one of the little bones.  
He placed his foot like Felice had, twisting his upper body so he could place the warm bundle of feathers where it belonged. He reached the spot easily, not understanding why Felice was telling him to be careful. Right up until the point where his sandals slipped from the worn stone of the windowsill.

“Kriss,” Felice warned, taking a step forward. Kriss saw it happen and tried to fall in a different direction. It would have worked if gravity worked in more than one way. Instead he landed in opened arms, and for one second they actually remained standing. Then psychics kicked in, and Kriss’ body was an object in motion that wanted to remain in motion. He stretched out his arms alongside Felice’s body, hoping to at least stave of a violent head-on collision. Her deep blue eyes widened as they collided and banged to the wooden boards.

“Ughn…” Felice groaned. “I was going to say, the stone is slippery there.”

“I noticed,” he replied.  
And then, raising his face, he noted how close they were. Smooth move there, dumbass, the thought flashed by, rendering him speechless. Why did he always end up doing this? “I didn’t mean to-”

A pale hand gave a gentle tug at his goatee. “I know. But… could you get off me? The floor isn’t exactly comfortable.”

The gesture, clearly meant affectionate instead of as a challenge like the last time, threw him of guard. And then he realized he was on top of Felice, his knees pressing against her thighs as her chest rose and dipped below his, both hands on opposite sides of her head. At least he hadn’t knocked his head against hers. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said hastily, drawing back. When she held out a hand for him to pull her up, he didn’t hesitate. The palm of her hand was cool and smooth, smaller than his.   
Strange, how she could be so demanding and cross most of the time, but still have such a delicate hand.

Felice seemed to hesitate, but then put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going to say I can relate, but I get you’re feeling sucky right now. And…well… I would choose to have you on this team any day over the Masked Gobballer.”

“You would?” Kriss asked, surprised. “Why?”

“Because I’ve seen enough to know you’re a good guy. And I doubt the Masked Gobballer would have been so gentle with a baby bird,” She said the last part with a tender look in her eyes. “So yeah, it’s her loss. Who knows, maybe she’ll realize it one day. But until then you’re in my team, and I’m considering that my win.”

Suddenly the Tofu dropped in front of their noses again, only this time it hovered at waist level, tiny wings flapping eagerly to keep airborne. Flapping harder, it hovered to Felice and Kriss’ eye level, chirping loudly as if telling them it would have been fine on its own.

“Yes!” Felice shouted as the bird flew away. “You fly, little buddy! You can do it!”

In spite of, or perhaps because his spontaneous vent, Kriss started to chuckle. Then the chuckle turned into a laugh which kept up even after Felice had turned around with a questioning look. “You’re always so serious!” Kriss said laughing. “Even when cheering on a bird, you’re just serious.”

Felice spluttered. “I am not always serious.”

“You were drunk and even then you were serious,” Kriss said, laughing even harder.

“I was not drunk,” she protested.

The following memory was the final stroke, sending him in a laughing fit. In between his laughing hiccups, Kriss managed to speak. “You tried to color my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.”

Bright red immediately flushed in Felice’s cheeks. “I was just… look it’s… I APPRECIATED YOUR HELP OKAY!”

“I’ll stop laughing, just give me a second,” Kriss promised, waving a hand in the air to plead mercy. Even when she was agitated enough to shout, Felice still managed to look serious. It was oddly endearing of his manager, and he wondered how many people actually could see through the tough act. “Okay, okay, I’m done.”

Felice squinted at him, clearly suspicious. “Okay, now that you’re done making fun of me, let’s get you some ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” 

She rolled her eyes, as if to say he knew nothing. Walking up to him, she placed a hand on his elbow, nudging him along with her to the main house. “The best way of healing a broken heart is ice cream and talking with a friend.” Suddenly bashful, she continued. “We have ice cream in the house, and I could be the friend… if you wanted to.”

Kriss looked down at her, charmed with the way she suggested it. “I’d like that.” And then he realized he actually had to look down to look her in the eyes. “And Felice, as your friend, I have to say,”

“What?” she asked, the suspicious squint returning.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be short!” He finished with a grin, anticipating the jab with her elbow.

“I just promised you ice cream, bastard!” Felice shouted, the tone in her voice making clear she wasn’t really insulted.

“I’m still a bastard you want to be friends with,” he replied in a singsong voice.

“That’s it, you’re running ten laps tomorrow,” Felice countered, running after him inside the house.

Kriss turned around, entering the house backwards. “Sure. But as captain I want every single one of my teammates to run with me.”

“Why you-”

“And Felice,” Kriss interrupted. “Thanks.” 

She paused, before slipping past him in the doorway. “What else do you have friends for?”


	6. Meeting Xhjit

“Alright everyone, you all know your targets?” Felice asked as they stood in front of the weekly market. Above them the Bonta sun warmed the salty sea breeze, gulls screeching overhead as they searched for food. Behind them the early crowd was starting to thicken with people getting their shopping for the week done as well.

“I’ve got repairs covered,” her grandfather said, holding up a stack of equipment that had gotten damaged in the trainings of the past few days.

Monty held up several empty baskets. “Fruits and veggies, I know.”

Jay held up the list Felice had prepared for him. “I got meat this week, thanks Feli!”

Next to him Jeremy glared, having drawn the second shortest stick after Genji. “I’m general sundries.”

Kriss scratched the back of his head, his hair smoother now he wasn’t psyched out for a gobball match. “I’m with you, manager.” He adjusted his bandana over his white hair and winked at Felice.

She replied with a half smile, one corner of her mouth pulling up. “That’s right. Once you're done with errands, everyone is free to do what they want until evening training. Now scatter!”

The team split up immediately, the lure of free time a powerful motivator. The only one who lingered was her grandfather, who gave Kriss a look that wasn’t wholly unfriendly but which still spelled little good to come. “Feli, about the other night-”

“Firipe was chased away and that’s all that matters to me,” she replied at once. “Thanks to the help of a friend.”

“If your mother hears about it,” her grandfather started, though Felice knew all too well how the man felt about his daughter in law. 

“She’ll chew me out, poppy. It won’t be anything new. Now, I’m going to introduce our new captain to everyone, and you please get repairs underway.” Felice hoped that would be the end of it for now; she didn’t feel like arguing her case in front of other people.

With her grandfather gone Felice sighed deeply, frowning as the old man left to do his own thing. Kriss moved to stand next to her, glancing from her to her grandfather and back. “Got a problem with your mom?”

“She has a problem with me leaving the domain,” Felice admitted. Unmarried, living a life that wasn’t tied to protecting the community. “Did your parents ever try to force you to be like them?”

Kriss paused in his walk for a heartbeat, before he continued. His face turned pensive, as if he was considering something. “No. My dad tried everything he could to make sure I wouldn’t turn out like him. It took a lot of work to play a match.” It was silent for a few seconds as they walked to one of the nearby stalls. “But he and mom did get me a gobball plushie when I was born.”

Surprised Felice looked at Kriss, who stared at the ground while his tan couldn’t hide the blush creeping to the tips of his ears. “A plushie? That’s adorable! Do you still have it? Can I see it?”

“Why’d you wanna see that?” Kriss half-shouted, before toning it down. 

Because, something inside her screamed, that was the first gift someone gave to you to make sure you’d be happy. “Can I?”

“If you promise not to tell anyone else,” Kriss whispered. “It’s… in my room back at the house.”

Felice crossed her heart with her index finger. “Promise.” 

The thought of a gobball captain dragging his first plushie across the continent was endearing, putting a spring in Felice’s step. While she was a bit jealous about how cute the gift must be - her first gift, she imagined, had probably been an abacus - most of her felt giddy at the thought. Happy with the thought, and at spending time with a teammate in a way that didn’t put much pressure on her, the noon sped away from them. Introducing Kriss to the merchants went easy; the captain was ever hungry for attention, and their win had given him a small social boost which went a long way in making things go smoothly. It helped that Felice could use part of their winnings to reduce outstanding debts, something that mollified even the harshest of business owners.  
Hours later they were done, standing near a stall that Felice had been saving for last on purpose, as a way of washing away business with pleasure. “Xhjit!” she shouted, waving a hand in the air. “Two juices!”

“Felice!” the Ecaflip greeted her with a lazy wag of his tail. “I was wondering if you were avoiding me.”

“Just saving the best for last,” Felice flattered, accepting a cup of fruit juice from the tabby-patterned feline. As Kriss accepted his own cup, Felice introduced them. “Kriss, this is Xhijt Aarune, one of my best friends. Xhijt, Kriss la Krass, the new captain for Lambchester.”

The two men shook hands, the tall Ecaflipp looking down benevolently on the smaller Sacrier. “Oh, so this is the other half of the scandal.”

“Scandal?” Felice asked, slurping her juice with a straw.

Xhjit”s eyes lit up when she asked the question, ducking underneath his stall and pulling out what looked like a page ripped from one of the tabloid magazines. “Oooooh, I was so excited to read about it. You needed some scandal in your life. You’ve been so boring.”

Felice plucked the piece of paper out of Xhjit’s paw and immediately coughed fruit juice over it. “I have not!”

“Felice, that is a collector’s item!” the Ecaflipp shouted, immediately retrieving the scrap of paper.

“It’s slander!” Felice choked out, coughing violently.

The piece of paper had indeed been clipped out of a tabloid, containing a sketch of team Lambchester as they celebrated their victory. The only thing Felice didn’t appreciate was that they’d drawn her sitting in Kriss’ lap with the caption ‘has our coldhearted manager finally let her hair down?’

“What’s so bad about this? We look great!” Kriss declared, looking over the drenched piece of paper.

“Letting down your hair,” Xhjit whispered so loudly anyone who cared to listen could hear him, “is a Feca euphemism for having a sordid affair with lots of kinky sex.”

“Xhjit!”

“Okay, just a euphemism for sex,” her friend admitted.

Kriss looked at the article, eyes wider than they’d ever been. “Felice, we look great on this picture. Hey, can I have this?”

“Kriss!”

“Sure. Actually I was going to get a copy framed, because it’s really hard to find any picture of Felice where she’s smiling. I know this is a drawing, but doesn’t she look adorable? Oh, I’ll get another copy framed for you,” the Ecaflipp made the offer, unknowingly gaining a friend for life.

“I give up,” Felice said, throwing her hands up in the air and spilling part of her drink on the paved stones. The men ignored her, one basking in his own glory - which he did include her in - and the other cooing over a well taken picture. “I’ll just live down my shame by myself, thanks for asking, Xhjit.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad. You can have a copy too if you want,” her friend offered generously.

Felice groaned, throwing her head back in her neck. “Kriss, do you mind? I need to have a talk with Xhjit. You can explore the market if you want. It’s a nice day, and I’m sure you’ll have some stuff you want to buy.”

Kriss hesitated, but Felice’s face had turned into the schooled concealing of emotion she’d learned from her mother. She really did not want to load her own family issues on Kriss’ shoulders. To her relief he agreed and wandered of to a nearby stall. Fuming she turned to Xhjit, who was cleaning his nails demonstratively. “What am I going to do?”

“Hopefully, your new captain,” Xhjit said, looking over his nails.

“Not funny,” Felice hissed. “What if someone brings this back to the domain? My mom is going to kill me.”

Xhjit leaned his arms on his stall, tail flicking back and forth in short controlled bursts. “You mean she’s going to have to accept you’re a separate entity? Imagine that.”

“You know what I mean. One day I’m going to have to take over the domain and-”

“Virginity is a social construct, and I can’t believe you’re sticking to it. Most Feca girls don’t give a damn, and most guys don’t either.”

“Most Feca don’t call Feca ‘grandmother’,” Felice hissed so lowly it was almost impossible to hear.

“Live a little, Felice. I’m not saying you have to go all the way. But you’ve been wound up for weeks, and this is coming from someone who goes into heat every few months. You need to unwind. And I know the captain is your type,” Xhjit practically purred the last bit. “There’s no need to turn over the keys of the kingdom, but you can open the door and let him peek inside.”

“You don’t have any proof,” Felice said, trying not to blush and thus, inevitably, blushing even harder.

“I had a front row seat to every single crush you’ve had. He is your type. Is he single?”

“Kinda, he got rejected-”

“Looking for a pair of arms to comfort him-”

“-and focused on getting known as a great gobballer-”

“-just imagine being there for him on and off the field-”

“- could you please stop making me into some kind of preying pervert?”

“... he’s staring at you,” Xhjit said with a sly grin. “No don’t turn around!”

Felice glanced over her shoulder, the only logical action when someone says one shouldn’t turn around. Kriss was standing at a carpet stall a row back, seemingly engrossed in examining a carpet. He stroked his goatee pensively, eyebrows knitting together as he stared at the piece of fabric. Felice turned back to Xhjit. “He’s carpet shopping.”

Xhjit rolled his eyes ostentatiously. “He’s been glancing this way ever since he left. You just told a guy from dreary Brakmar to run free in the miracle that is Bonta, and he’s staying around to keep an eye on you. Sounds to me like he’s at least fond of you.”

Felice sighed. “Well, I still can’t do what you’re proposing. I’m still here on probation, and if anyone brings home that article, mother is going to skin me alive.”

“Nah, she’ll just lock you up in a tower somewhere,” Xhjit said, only half joking. “Felice, you can’t just keep obeying your mother’s rules. So you had one bad experience with a guy, don’t let that ruin your life. You’re a badass manager, you have some great friends and you’re cuter than a button. This city could be at your feet if you only dared live a little.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re friends,” Felice said with a slight smile.

“No, I’m giving you a free refill because we’re friends,” the Ecaflip said while pouring a mixed juice in her cup. “I’m telling you the truth because you did the same for me. Who was it that first encouraged me to cut my hair and tell others to call me ‘he’, huh? You helped me become who I really am, and now I’m going to return the favor.”

“So what am I, really?” Felice asked, sipping her drink.

“A cold-blooded vixen that can’t be denied. So after you finish training tonight - even though you could totally let your fellas do that by themselves - I am taking you out for fun. Late night shopping because you need accessories, we can grab some dinner and- oh, great idea. Kriss, buddy!” Xhjit shouted, waving a hand in the air.

The shout startled the captain from his apparent intent study of a carpet, prompting him into a jog to where the action was. “What?”

“I have just the best idea. You’ve probably noticed by now that Felice isn’t the most outgoing of people,”

“Who even needs enemies-” Felice muttered.

“So I am going to take her out on the town with me tonight. And since you’re new, and she’s probably completely neglected taking you out,”

“When you have friends like these,” she finished.

“You should come with us. It’ll be fun, we go out for a drink, some dancing. Some fun for the fundeficient,” Xhjit said, smacking Felice hard on the shoulder.

“Working hard is not a disease,” she protested.

“Sounds nice. If Felice is okay with me tagging along that is,” Kriss said. “I don’t want to get in the way of a private thing.”

“You won’t,” Xhjit practically purred. “I’ll be waiting for you two after you’re done with practice. And I know you won’t let your lovely manager sabotage me by training longer by accident, right?”

Kriss glanced at her, at once guessing what her plans had been. “I’ll keep an eye on the time.”

Felice looked between the two men. “I should never have introduced the two of you.”


	7. Dancing Fever

“I’m happy we practiced passes today. I’m sure it’ll make a big difference in future matches,” Felice said, making sure the pins in her hair were secure.

“I still can’t believe how short you are without heels,” Kriss mused next to her, arms crossed. “You totally had me believing you were taller than me for like… two weeks.” He glanced next to him, where Felice was confidently walking on a pair of high shoes. They made her reach slightly above his eye height, instead of reaching up to where his nose was. “Cheater.”

“Gobball, it’s cheating,” she said with a wink. 

“I don’t remember you paying for that privilege,” he quipped back.

“I pay for it every day, with the heart attacks our two Iops give me. I just hope they don’t trash the house while I’m gone. Jay’s a sweetie, but he can really act up when he’s had a night terror.”

Xhjit suddenly appeared between them. “ _Our_ Iops? Why do you insist on sounding like a worried housewife?”

Kriss did get her concern, recalling the brain burn-out Jeremy had gotten after thinking too long of the difference between onions and leeks. “What if they play a board game and have to look up the rules? They might need an entire day to recover.”

Xhjit wrapped an arm around them both, pulling them closer. “Not you too! I wanted to hang out with cool people, not an old married couple.”

“It’s not our fault we have two Iops in the team,” Felice protested. “And what are your plans for cool people?”

It turned out that Xhjit’s idea of a cool evening out started with dinner at a seaside restaurant. Only just getting used to Bonta’s cuisine, Kriss decided to play on the safe side with a gobball stew while his companions went for the spiced fish. While his manager ate heartily, Xhjit gladly took the word as he told an entertaining story about the various people he met on a daily basis while tending his stall. It gave Kriss the time to think, only interrupted once when a new fan asked him to sign a menu card. Flattered Kriss complied, adding a little heart on top of his name for enhanced effect. The squeals and subsequent giggle really made it worth it.

When he returned to the conversation, Xhjit suggested they hang out at a local Feca nightclub, where Felice’s dance squad would be hanging out. Kriss looked at Felice. “I didn’t know you danced.”

Felice grabbed the menu, burying her nose in the dessert section. “It’s not anything impressive. Just… dancing.”

“My darling Felice is an overachiever, you know. Here she is, running a thousand projects at once instead of just picking one and being really great at it,” Xhjit looked at the Feca with an obviously fond look, resting their paws on one another.

Kriss smiled, not having anything to add to the statement. It was rather obvious Felice was bad with praise, and at first Kriss had thought that Xhjit was another person who made her feel uncomfortable in a bad way. It was why he’d stayed behind on the market, to make sure Felice didn’t get into trouble. As far as he could tell, the two were close but not a couple. “You guys having dessert?” he asked.

“I’m going to pass. If the girls are there we’ll be dancing a lot, and I just can’t when I’m stuffed,” Felice said, folding the dessert card with an obvious look of regret.

Kriss looked down at Felice’s shoes under the table. There was no way in all hells that she’d be able to do anything but awkwardly shuffle on those. As they all passed on dessert and left for the night club, Xhjit continued to carry the conversation by himself, hooking a hand through both of his companions arms. “And then I said, if you don’t think that is the best of spending a sunny day, I don’t need you. Speaking of sunny days, when do you think that-”

Felice leaned back a little, drawing Kriss’ attention with the move. She smiled, and nodded at Xhjit who was happily dragging them along. “Sometimes he gets in his own little world. You still having fun?”

Kriss realized he hadn’t thought about his broken heart for a few hours. He’d been so engrossed in having a day off - the first since he arrived - and spending it with interesting people that every thought of Maud had fled his mind. “Yeah. I’m having fun.”

“Good,” Felice beamed before returning her attention to Xhjit.

They arrived at the club soon enough, descending down a flight of stairs that was crooked and looked like it would fall apart at any second. Loud thumping came from behind closed doors as the temperature steadily rose. Then they arrived at the entrance. Once the doors opened, sound blasted toward them so intensely their hair moved, a blast of hot air immediately blowing in their faces. 

It was definitely different from the night clubs in Brakmar, though he recognized some of the themes from the Sidimote Moors. The one Feca-owned nightclub had also carried a distinct preference for neon blues and greens, occasionally interspersed with pinks and purples. But here it had been taken up to a whole new level. As people walked across the dance floor their footsteps lit up in different colors, the blacklight inverting colors. “Love your hair,” Xhjit shouted in Kriss’ ear, making him check it out. He didn’t bother gelling in the spikes on a non-match day, and his sleek white hair now glowed almost blue. 

“This place is great!” Kriss shouted to Felice, who leaned closer to him so she could hear.

“I know,” she shouted back as they followed their Ecaflip companion to the bar. “Actually, the floor was made with help from Xelor craftsmen. It charges from the Wakfu of people dancing on it, and that’s what lights the room and makes the music play.”

Now that was pretty impressive. Kriss accepted the drink, offering to pay his new friend for it but being waved away by Xhjit. Felice touched Kriss’ elbow, drawing his attention with her cool touch. “I just saw my friends. Is it okay if I go say hi for a while?”

He raised his drink, sending her off in the crowd. Amazing how quick she could move in those high heels and the usual tight skirt. He watched her go before moving his attention to Xhjit, who was happily monologuing again. Kriss listened, learning a lot about the history of Bonta - founded by ‘fun’ pirates -, the Feac Domain - founded by Feca herself! -, and, for someone inexplicable reason, the history of beekeeping in this nation. Then Xhjit asked Kriss to tell him about the Sidimote Moors, having wanted to travel there for some time but never finding the chance. While Kriss’ experiences there were shitty - pun intended - and not that related to Gobball, he did know enough about what tourists liked to see to weave an interesting tale. 

“Let’s go find the girls and dance,” Xhjit said, clapping Kriss on the shoulder after they finished their second drink. “I got enough liquid courage in me to try and keep up with them.”

“What do you mean, keep up?” Kriss asked, following behind Xhjit, who was walking in the direction of loud cheers. 

“Oh Krissie boy, when I say dance group, I don’t mean like it’s a relaxing sport. These women mean business,” Xhjit said, using his height to gently push between some people that had formed a circle around a group of women. A chubby Cra had just dropped low, shaking her hips to the beat and throwing her head back, before getting back up with an artistic bounce. A different Cra pushed forward another of their group, and to his surprise Kriss saw Felice putting one leg in front of the other and sliding to the ground in a fluid motion. She caught herself on one arm, barely touching the ground as she swung one leg back and came back up with a fluid movement. The women behind her followed the move, meeting loud approval from the crowd. 

Felice followed the lead of the girl to her side, bumping her hip to the girl on her left with a grin. This was followed by a smooth shashay to the side, taunting the gathered crowd. It was obvious they were having fun, occasionally holding hands and twirling one another around. Xhjit bumped Kriss’ shoulder. “This is why I needed some liquid courage. They’re not called Quickstep because they’re pretty. LADIES! Got room for a few more?”

“XHJIT!” the women cried out, jumping and waving them closer. Soon Kriss was engulfed in perfume, glitter and colorful clothing, shaking hands and trying to remember names. One of the women even pinched his cheek with a cute grin. The chubby Cra grabbed him in a hug, engulfing him in soft curves and a surprisingly strong grip.

“Felice has told us so much about you.”  
“She was just gushing about you.”  
“You were right, he is handsome!”

“You okay?” Felice asked when he was released, dizzy from the warm welcome.

“Yeah,” Kriss said, not completely sure. It had been a different welcome than he’d been expecting from a group of, frankly speaking, utterly gorgeous women. “Are they always this nice?”

“I told them we were friends,” Felice said with a smile. “The friend of my friend is surely also my friend.”

“That’s not how the saying goes. And I heard something about you ‘gushing’ over my ‘handsome’ looks,” Kriss said, taking the compliments with his usual grace. Ever hungry for validation, he did enjoy the attention a lot.

“You’re so vain”, Felice chided, though she didn’t deny the statement. 

At once the women screamed, abandoning their practiced paces for an excited jumping up and down. “We love this song!” Felice screamed as info, before launching into the chorus with her friends.

 _Oh, what the heck._ Kriss joined in, lazily jumping up and down until the beat intensified. From there the evening did become as exhausting as Xhjit had predicted, until Kriss became convinced the only reason these women weren’t running circles around the Masked Gobballer was that they couldn’t wear high heels on the field. In between general goofballing and shouting at each other, each of the five strangers took their time to introduce themselves to Kriss while Felice and Xhjit danced together.

Once the Cra girl from earlier had excused herself - Lily, her name was - Felice came back, a saunter in her step that wasn’t usually there. This, Kriss realized, was more her habitat. Away from business and prying eyes, where she was just one person in a mass. “Still having fun?” she asked, checking up on him.

“Yep,” he replied, touched that she took care to make sure he was doing okay.

“C’mon Kriss, show us what you’ve got,” Xhjit shouted, giving Kriss a push in the small of his back.

Felice caught him, her hands on his lower arms as he stumbled forward. “Well?” she asked, twirling around on the spot, her high heels conjuring up light golden light on the Wakfu-powered floor.

“Uuuuh…” Kriss hesitated, but like a true showman he could feel all eyes on him. Since there was no way he could beat these women at their own game, he’d just have to conjure up a league of his own. Standing up straight he raised his arms, moving them in a wave motion.

Felice shrugged and in a show of companionship copied the move, before twirling around again. Kriss followed this, and added a few loose arm movements in there that reminded him about gobbal trainings. His manager followed the movements with an interested look and repeated the moves, adding a few quick steps that sparked golden again. Excellent footwork, Kriss thought as he watched. Repeating that wasn’t easy, but he pulled it off, the tiles beneath his feet sparking in grayish silver.  
Kriss was aware they were getting some viewers, though not as much as the ladies had earlier while dancing. A few shouts went up, people screaming his name in intervals. Finishing the quickstep Felice had added - and didn’t that nickname make sense now - he added a goofy ‘underwater’ gesture. It made her laugh, but she still followed his example. 

“Your fans are watching,” she shouted. “How about you make them cheer?”

Following the underwater gesture, Felice suddenly reached out and took Kriss’ hand in hers, cool fingers immediately sending a wake up call through his brain. She tugged and when Kriss stepped toward her, she spun past him in quick little steps. As she spun, she lifted his hand, making it look as if he was the one spinning her. The pay-off was immediate, with several female screams immediately rising from the crowd. Kriss made a peace sign with his free hand as Felice finished her spin. “Who’s fundeficient now?” she asked Xhjit, who laughed and shrugged at the same time.  
Feeling brave with this level of dance skills, Kriss gave Felice’s hand a slight tug. She returned, turning twice before stopping in front of him. “You’re learning!”

Ah, he hadn’t thought she would end up standing so close when he pulled her back. While her perfume wasn’t overpowering, it did reach his nose. The scent of rain and green things mixed with that of his sweat, and he was suddenly very aware of his arm wrapped around her waist. “I got a good example.”  
Felice cast her eyes down, accepting the compliment quietly. When she stepped away her weight shifted, forcing Kriss to catch her. “Felice, you okay?”

“No,” she replied with a whine. “I broke one of my heels!”

He followed her look, eyes skimming past her legs to her prized heels, finding that one of them had indeed broken off. “Pity,” he said, meaning it. He’d become quite fond of high heels in the past few days.

“Feli, no!” Lily cried out, immediately stepping over. “Woman down!” one of the other women cried out, rushing over as well. Kriss was pretty much forced to hand his manager over to a group of concerned troup mates, every one of them exclaiming with worry. “We’ll walk you home, Feli!” a tall Enutroff said, gathering up the rest of their little group.  
Kriss and Xhjit followed the women as the only two men in their group. With that honor came the duty of carrying purses, handbags and, to Kriss’ mild surprise, a pair of leggings.

In front of him Felice was partly carried by the taller girls of her group, both her arms clasped around their waist as she hopped along on one foot. “Guys… I’m fine…” she huffed. “I’ll get home okay, go back to the party.”

“Oh no, we are making sure you get home safe,” Lily said, taking a moment to squish Felice’s face between her palms. “Our cute little Feli might get in trouble.”

“We talked about using the baby voice on me,” Felice complained as she hopped along.

Kriss looked up at the sky. Seeing how high the moon had risen, he guessed they’d been out for longer than he had guessed. “I’ll get her home safely,” he said, immediately drawing the attention of seven women. “We live together, so y’know…. You girls go back to the party and have fun.”

Funny, he never felt like a gobball steak eyed by sharks when people looked at him. But now the women tensed around Felice in what Kriss would have guessed was an enhanced Cage technique where all of them were ready to protect their friend. “Guys, it’s cool! Kriss is nice,” Felice said, trying to look in from between her friends.

“Ladies, trust me, this guy is the real deal. He’ll get our girl home safe,” Xhjit agreed, clapping Kriss hard on the shoulder. The statement subdued the women’s natural instinct to help their friend and they allowed Felice to hop over. 

Kriss offered his hand. She accepted gratefully, holding it with both hands while she stood awkwardly on one high-heeled foot. Her touch was cool, the tips of her fingers soft against his calloused palm. Then her eyes, almost black in the night, moved from their joined hands to his face. Even in the dim light he saw the corners of her mouth move upward slightly. 

The temporary spell was broken when Xhjit stood behind Felice, placing his paws on her shoulders. He sized Kriss up, looking from one to the other. “You’re not quite as beefy as the usual players, but I think you might do a fine job.”

“Huh?” Kriss asked, not sure where this was going.

“The best way to carry a damsel in distress is, of course, the bridal style. But since we’re not running away from evil overlords today, we’re going to have to go with the second best. The Pyboar back,” Xhjit said as if he were orating in front of a classroom. It didn’t help that the entire dance squad was nodding sagely.

“For crying out loud, Xhjit-” Felice started.

“Sure, that’ll be easiest,” Kriss said. When Felice protested he held up his free hand. “Please, I run around on a field all day. I think getting you back home should be easy.”

Five minutes later Kriss found himself huffing - but not quite yet puffing - on his way back home. He might have forgotten the uphill part of this quest, but he wasn’t about to let on about that to anyone, least of all his manager. 

“You can put me down,” Felice said as Kriss took another step.

“Are you kidding? This is nothing!” he lied, taking yet another step. His passenger sighed, resting her head against his back. It actually wasn’t half bad that Felice rested against him like that; her lower body temperature counterbalanced his, saving him from overheating. 

“I can walk,” Felice tried again. Kriss heard her exhale a puff of air and imagined she was blowing away a stray lock of white, and quite possibly sweaty, hair.

“I said I’d get you home, and that’s what I’mma do. So shut it.” he thought about it for a few seconds. “Manager,” he finished, trying to take the sting out of his words. It wasn’t that he wanted to be mean to her. But he was used to at least trying to take care of women, and Felice could definitely use a helping hand.

“... you need to take a right turn here,” she said, breaking the temporary silence. Kriss followed the order, happy for the extra directions. While his eyes did great in a sunkissed field, his dark vision was close to zero. “Dummy,” she finished.

While not wholly mature, Kriss found a simple revenge by shifting his hands closer to her bottom, pulling her up. His hands brushed across soft fabric - confirming his suspicion that Felice really had a thing for garterbelts - and cool, slightly slick skin. Felice let out an indignant squeak, pushing closer against him out of instinct. “And a pervert,” she said, though her tone wasn’t completely complaining. 

“Coming from the woman who has managed to see me naked.”

“Not on purpose!”

“Less than 48 hours after I arrived in town, no less.”

“As if I knew that towel was going to drop and you were having a-” her voice trailed off as she tensed.

Well, it wasn’t like he had to be ashamed of what was a natural reaction. He had been slightly scared and horny before - what else could he have been, with Maud as an unrequited crush - but it had never been elicited by what could be classified as the sexiest manager in town. “Take it as a compliment?” he tried, determined not to make a big deal out of it. Better not think too much about cool, slick skin and soft breasts pressing against your back, Krissie, or you’ll be paying her another compliment. 

Felice was quiet for a few seconds, before her grip on his shoulders tightened for a second. “Thanks for the compliment, I guess?”

It was quiet for a bit after that. Kriss didn’t dislike the quiet - he did not also need to discuss the event that involved his morning wood - but talking had made the road back to the house seem less daunting. _Welp, you thought about her breasts. Try not to walk too awkwardly._ Once they came at the stairs he lowered Felice to the ground, where she quickly stepped in place to avoid the cold stone underneath her feet.

“I’ll race you,” Felice said before taking off up the winding stairs, barely giving Kriss the time to register the challenge.

“Cheater!” he shouted after her, grabbing the railing as he pulled himself up, skipping part of the stairs.

Felice didn’t look behind her, instead tapping up the stairs so quick, the nickname Quickstep making more and more sense. “I thought you were ‘born to cheat’?”

“Takes one to know one!” he shouted back, enjoying the inpromptu race. Exercising always made him feel good, and in between towing back his curvy manager and a night of dancing, the endorphins were certainly present.

Kriss caught up to her just as she was about to enter the long alley to their shared home. With practiced finesse he fell, using the momentum to slide past Felice. Surprised the woman stopped running, almost toppling over as Kriss came back up with a grin. “Victory goes to me.”

“Show off.”

“It’s like you’ve known me forever,” Kriss fake-sniffed. “I didn’t think my new manager would be this good at reading me.”

“... during training you ran up to a group of kids and offered to sign their shirts. After you performed what I thought were circus tricks for like, fifteen minutes,” Felice said, blinking incredulously. 

Kriss grinned at the memory. It had made those kids ridiculously happy that a gobballer would take time out of his training to interact with them. Then he looked down at Felice’s bare feet. “Let’s get you inside. Don’t want you getting sick before our big match.”  
Felice moved forward as Kriss turned around, patting his back in an invitation. “Hop on.”

“The door is right there,” she pointed out.

“I promised your friends I’d get you home safe. So hop on,” he insisted, patting his back again.

“I can walk. You just want to make a big entrance again.”

“Maybe. Now are you going to do as I ask?”

“No, because it’s not neces- Kriss, put me down!”

Fueled by endorphins and general appreciation for his manager - overly serious Felice, who could not take a compliment with just a thanks - Kriss lifted her over his shoulder. He’d considered the bridal carry for a second, but having seen her move he guessed she would have been able to slip out of his grasp. As it was she wiggled back and forth on his shoulder.

“Just a few meters and we’re inside,” he promised her.

Her bare feet kicked in the air as her hand slapped him on the ass. “Put me down.”

“When we’re inside and your feet won’t freeze off.” 

She tensed, before smacking the only body part she could reach again. “Oh, you’re insufferable. Why am I nice to you again?”

 _Probably because you saw me crying over my broken heart._ Kriss thought. _Or because I tried to help you beat of a creep. Or maybe because you try to act tough, but anyone who’s lived in Brakmar can pick out the real bitches and the ones that pretend. And you’re someone who’s protecting a caramel heart._ “Because you love your new captain!” he offered as an explanation instead.

“You have no proof.”

“You were singing my praises,” he retorted. Their bickering continued for a long time after they entered the house, where Monty and Jeremy happily joined in. Kriss sighed contently later that evening, laying in bed. The Heart he’d meant to give to Maud rested underneath his pillow. _Sucks you weren’t here, Maud. I’m having fun. Bonta really is something else._


	8. Game, Set And Match

_Excerpt from “A Guide To Long Living” : “Unlike the Eniripsa, who value peaceful living above all things and possess their healing touch, the Feca focus on protecting harm from befalling the weak in the first place. The careful adventurer would be wise not to lay a hand on a Feca’s chosen flock, lest they pay for it with more than their purse.”_

“How you holding up?” Kriss asked, standing next to Felice as she peered out to the field.

Her entire body language screamed tense, from the stiff way she arched on her heels all the way to her fingers clasping the red and gold cloth so tight the skin of her fingers turned white. “I’m fine,” she said. Kriss raised an eyebrow in response, to which some red fought its way into her cheeks. “I am fine. Really. We are going to beat that sorry punk ass so hard his grandchildren will be sore.”

Okay, so that was fighting spirit he hadn’t seen before. Still, it was good to know his manager really cared about how the team performed. “Sure thing, Felice,” he said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. They called out the first introductions and Felice strode out on the field, where the Chats Bleux’ manager also strode out.

“Okay guys,” he said, turning around. While Felice would no doubt find some way to warm up the crowd for them, he had to do the same in here. “This is the finale, and we have our work cut out for us. We’ve been working hard-”

_Late night cramming sessions where Felice drew out the Chat Bleux’ favorite tactics and complete diagrams showing their strengths and weaknesses. Personalized and color-coded training schedules for each individual member of their team and hours of time spent on a training field. They made for odd memories, but the training had been effective. ___

__“- and we can take these guys. They may have won the past few years, but this year, we have the love of the crowd. We have the superior team composition. And we are the ones that are winning this. Are you with me?”_ _

__“YEAH!”_ _

__“Then let’s get them!”_ _

__They stormed out on the field and Kriss immediately knew he’d been right. The crowd did love them. They loved _him_ , shouting his name in patches here and there. He cartwheeled once, grinning broadly and receiving more applause. From the other side of the field supporters were cheering for his opponents, waving blue and white flags. And in the middle of the field he found Firipe and his team, consisting mostly of Feca. The exception to the rule was a Trool. Kriss hadn’t thought they would have been allowed in a competition._ _

__“And here we have the captains of the opposing teams, taking their places. Will newcomer Kriss la Krass show us that he has what it takes to lead his team to a second victory, or will Firipe Medawa lead his team to victory for the fourth year in a row?” the commentator shouted, pointing to the audience benches. “All is fair in love and Gobball, and we are sure to see what that means on this field. Players, take your marks!”_ _

__Kriss bent down in the starting position, knuckles touching down on the field. Around him the sound faded as he locked eyes with the person standing between him and victory. “Ready to eat dust, Medawa?”_ _

__Firipe glared back with sea green eyes. “Watch it, la Krass.”_ _

__“GO!”_ _

__The ball was launched in the air, and Kriss jumped at the same time as Firipe. The cheering of the crowd returned and with it, Kriss felt as alive as ever. He didn’t manage to catch the ball, but instead smashed it from above, lodging it out of Firipe’s grip. The Feca swore as below them their teammates clashed together. Jay grabbed the ball out of the mess of tangled limbs and threw it forward. Kriss landed on both feet, while Genji spurted ahead to catch the gobball._ _

__“And that is a nice pass from Jay. Genij sprints forward, and he dodges once, twice and oh! Oh that has got to hurt, a full on collision with Miso! Miso grabs the ball and Genji makes a swipe for the ankles. Good job on NOT going through with that, because cheating fees have not been paid for this match YET. Miso goes, goes, dodges Jay- Kriss has GOT the ball and -”_ _

__The Trool suddenly appeared in Kriss’ way. Not wanting to spend the charge in his shoes yet, Kriss passed the ball behind him to Monty who took off with a roar. “I got nothing, big guy,” Kriss said with a laugh._ _

__The Trool snorted and made a feigned swipe at Kriss instead of running after the ball. Kriss jumped back and then ran past the Trool, looking back and holding his pinkies up._ _

__“Kriss, eyes on the ball!” Felice shouted from the sideline._ _

__Right, less time spent aggravating their opponents, more time playing. He gave Felice a thumbs-up, blew a kiss at the crowd and intercepted a pass toward the Trool. Today was going to be a great day. Kriss wasn’t proven wrong, since shortly after that he managed to run all the way to the end of the field, sliding just underneath their defender’s shield. Placing one hand on the ground he turned, swinging his legs to the side and standing up, slamming the ball down on the goalpost. He bowed toward the crowd before moving back to the middle field._ _

__The crowd cheered as the commentator sung his praises. Felice pumped her fist in the air, momentarily spoiling her usual secretary-like demeanor while the opposing team’s manager started to shout angrily at his players._ _

__“And Lambchester United takes the lead with the first goal. Not a bad play at all by Kriss la Krass, although this is sure to fire up the competition. Let’s hope he prepared for this match because the Bleux look like they’re just warming up!”_ _

__And warm up it did. Suddenly Kriss was glad for all the laps around the field Felice had made them run - _you’re going to need more stamina_ \- or even the yoga she’d forced on them - _if you’re not limber you can’t dodge_! The Bleux made sure Lambchester saw every single corner of the field, and every other part twice._ _

__“GOAL to Bleux!”  
“Lambchester takes this one folks!”  
“Bleux scores again, what a match, what a game!”  
“And Bleux takes the lead. What a time to be a gobball fan, ladies and gentlebeings!”  
“Another score for our reigning champions. Has Lambchester peaked? Is this the end to their first season?”_ _

__Only 5 minutes left in the last quarter of the game, and two points behind. Kriss had been playing long enough that this meant anything could still happen, as long as they got a score in now. And if this didn’t make for an exciting game that kept the crowd on the edge of their seat, he didn’t know what would.  
 _One goal now. And then, the last goal in the last minute if we can. That should really amp up the tension. But we need a score right now, or my timing will be completely off.__ _

__Kriss knelt down in the starting position once more, weighing the benefits of using his booster right now or waiting until a more opportune moment. Glancing up, Firipe’s eyes met his. There was a very distinct satisfied smirk on the Feca’s face, and Kriss only needed to see that look to know his opponent was already celebrating his victory.  
The whistle blew and Kriss jumped, a fraction faster than Firipe. A fraction was all he needed, slamming down the gobball. The white and blue mass bounced on the field before being intercepted by the Trool. Kriss landed on the ground, blew the crowd a kiss and activated his booster. It made him do a 180 turn, but that was worth it when he snatched the ball away from the Trool. Making a lazy, wide loop he turned back into the right direction, dodging a tackle from Firipe._ _

__When one of the defenders thought to activate their shield, Kriss smacked the gobball on the resulting power field. The ball bounced back, landing in Genji’s hands. The old man laughed and activated his booster as well. Running in circles, the old man confused the remaining defender before passing on the ball to Jeremy, who in the resulting confusion passed again to Kriss.  
He ran backwards for three whole steps, before doing a backflip and pressing the gobball firmly on the ground. Standing on his hands, the gobball firmly pressed on the goal, Kriss saw the stadium upside down._ _

__People were standing up, screaming their approval for the latest goal of the game. Several of his opponents were still spinning in dizzy circles while Firipe was trying to herd them back into some sort of playing shape._ _

__Kriss la Krass  
He’s got class  
And he’s gonna  
Kick your ass_ _

__Kriss recognized the tune and grinned broadly. Felice has been humming it under her breath for days, angrily scribbling in her trusty notebook. And glancing over to her, he saw his manager at once. She was standing with her back to him, but just then started to turn around. Her high heels wobbled dangerously on the soft ground, but the vibrant colors of her usual game day outfit stood out splendidly._ _

__Felice’s head continued to swivel to the side, the look on her face going from pleased to shocked. Kriss’ eyes followed her gaze, legs starting to swing forward so he could stand again.  
The Trool had badly hit Jeremy, sending the small Iop flying into the benches. While that wasn’t against the rules - injuries sustained during a match were expected - there was one additional problem.  
The Trool was now rushing toward Kriss, the ground vibrating with each stomping step he took. Kriss started wishing gravity would work faster, because running away was definitely an attractive option right now. Before his body had even properly started the descent, the furious Trool reached him and pulled back a fist. _ _

___Well fuck._ _ _

__\-------------_ _

__“Kriss!” Felice shouted as the Trool advanced. But it was too late for intervention, and as Kriss was smacked against the stadium wall there was a distinct snapping sound. “That’s a foul!” Felice shouted, pointing a finger at the ref._ _

__The short man held up his hands in defense, taking a step back. “They… um, they paid for cheating a minute ago. They still have three minutes left. So, it’s not really a foul foul. You get?”_ _

__“Oh, I get!” she shouted, tossing her notebook to the ground before running to the sidelines where the stadium Eniripsa had laid down Kriss and Jeremy. Their teammates already huddled around the injured Iop and unconscious captain. “How is he?” Felice asked._ _

__“He’ll be fine,” the Eniripsa said, not doing much. “He’s a Sacrier, he’ll bounce back in a minute or so. That rib is going to be tender for a few more hours though.”_ _

__Felice oversaw the damage. Bumps and bruises seemed to be the worst of the damage, though there was a nasty cut right above his eyes. The skin underneath the heart on his chest had gone from a deep tan to a nasty blue and black. Something in Felice’s brain snapped as she surveyed all of this, even before she turned to Jeremy and saw the damage more than exceeded that necessary in a match._ _

__The pencil in her hand snapped, before she - calmly - removed her reading glasses from her nose. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she announced, handing over her glasses to her grandfather._ _

__“Uhm, Feli, don’t you think-”_ _

__“Sotare, it was an accident! Look, we’re sorry about this, so don’t blow your top!” Firipe shouted from the other side of the field. Hearing his voice, Felice really did lose it._ _

__“Poppy, pay the ref. I’m going to pay them back in kind,” she said, with the cool decision of a woman who could only take so much bullshit. They had disrespected her, hounded her and ridiculed her. This was okay, because that was expected of them by Feca custom since she’d shied away from their rules.  
They’d harmed her teammates, but that had been within the rules as well, as long as the game had been ongoing. But they had continued after that, injuring two of her teammates after the rules had forbidden it. Injuring her new captain - and his somewhat pretty face - and probably because Kriss had been a decent guy who had helped her out._ _

__Some people needed to be smacked with the rulebook. Lacking that, Felice would settle for punching them in the face._ _

__\--------------_ _

__Kriss opened his eyes and groaned. Blinking hurt. Breathing hurt. Even hearing hurt._ _

__“... and here we have Felice Quickstep Sotare moving on the field to take the penalty,” a voice in the background announced._ _

__Clearly he was hallucinating. While Felice was a backup member of the time, she had made it clear in the past she did not intend to play. Being hit by a Trool came with more than just a few fractures to his noodle than he’d anticipated._ _

__“The Lambchester United manager is looking fired up today, ladies and gentlefolk. I would not want to be on the receiving end of this penalty,”_ _

__The hallucination persisted, and Kriss finally struggled up, sitting on the hard bench at the end of the field. Yep, definitely something had broken up there. Because there was no way he was looking at Felice dressed in a golden yellow Lambchester shirt with matching red shorts and white knee high socks. He was sure she would never want to be caught dead in shoes that weren’t two inches high out in public._ _

___Not a bad fit on those shorts though. When I have a concussion, at least it’s quality._ _ _

__Hallucination Felice bounced a gobball up and down on the field a few times with a pensive look on her face. Her hair was still in the strict updo she’d sported earlier, but the glasses were gone. Kriss wondered if the hallucination had her hair that way because he didn’t know what Felice looked like with her hair unbound._ _

__“How hard did that Trool hit me?” Kriss asked, rubbing his forehead as he tried to focus on the obviously fake Felice. While he hadn’t been expecting her to show up as a weird diversion during a concussion, she wasn’t bad to look at. And he didn’t have to feel guilty about oggling a fake version of his manager._ _

__Genji poked him in the ribs, catching Kriss’s leer at his granddaughter. As the captain yelped in pain the sprinter grinned. “That hard. And now lil’ Feli is showing her grandmother’s temper. You would have thought Firipe would have caught on to how he could avoid this.”_ _

__“Avoid what?” Kriss asked, rubbing the sore spot. _Wait, is Felice really taking a penalty run? That shit is dangerous.__ _

__“Feli is going to kick ass,” Jay said proudly. “Almost as good as a Iop would.”_ _

__“Charging in head first and asking questions never,” Jeremy added from his stretcher, still looking worse for wear._ _

___It’s really bad if the two Iops are saying it’s a GOOD idea,_ Kriss’ brain helpfully offered as a sole thought. “Who’s she taking the penalty against?” he asked, debating on whether or not he could stand up._ _

__“The Trool,” Genji said with a sigh._ _

___The fuck she isn't_ , Kriss thought. “Felice!” he shouted, voice cracking as his battered ribs loudly protested the large inhale of air. “Hey, what ya think you’re doing?”_ _

__Felice turned around, waving once from her spot near the center. “How’s he doing, poppy?”_ _

__“A Sacrier with an Eniripsa healing him, whaddaya think?” the old man shouted back._ _

__Felice made an ok-sign with her ring finger and thumb, the serious look on her face remaining. From the other side of the field the Trool walked up. Kriss imagined he saw the ground shake with every step._ _

__“And here we have Kay the Trool, straight from… well, wherever he’s from, I hope they’re ready to welcome him back. Players, are you ready?”_ _

__“She’s going to get herself killed,” Kriss groaned, standing up. He actually liked this manager, even after all the awkward moments. Felice sure beat working for Madame Stroud, even if the old bag had been the first to give him a chance. Kriss and Felice had a good thing going between them, and he’d be damned if some Trool was going to kill the person that was one of his best friends in this town. “Felice, get your ass of that field right now,” he started, taking one hesitating step to the edge of the field before he was scooted back to his place by the Eniripsa on duty. “Felice, as the Stracier-damned captain of this team, I’m ordering you to-” he was cut of by the Eniripsa sticking a straw down his throat, forcing him to drink something. “Could you cut that out?”_ _

__A bang, and the penalty started._ _

__\-----------------------_ _

__The penalty run was one of the odd little rules that often went forgotten. Mostly because gobball players had the good sense to know that running against another player one on one ended in broken bones and fractured honor. And as people started to value their chances of continuing to compete over the chance to butt heads with an opponent, the rule slowly slipped away._ _

__Felice knew the entire rule book from back to front and front to back. Remembering rules was a Feca thing, and Felice’s mother had made sure that Felice would be the best Feca that ever lived. And from her grandmother, Felice had gotten an unswerving sense that prompted her to protect her own.  
Jeremy was her own. Kriss was her own. The Trool was not._ _

__The blood pounded in her ears as Felice had gotten dressed for the match, pulling up her white knee high socks with vigor. Playing fair wouldn’t help her against this opponent, and Felice had no intention of keeping it fair either way. Playing fair seldom led to vengeance._ _

__She bounced the gobball on the terrain, once._ _

__The Trool drew nearer, obliging his end of this penalty run. It wasn’t about the goal she might score at the end of this, and they both knew it._ _

__A second bounce._ _

__Felice weighed the strength she’d need to use to get a big kickback. A bit more, perhaps. And then?_ _

__Bounce._ _

__The nose._ _

__Bounce._ _

__And the knees._ _

__The ref’s gun went off. Felice ran, straight toward the Trool. Unlike Kriss, for Felice the presence of the crowd was hardly noted by her senses. All she felt was the dirt as the soles of her cleats pounded down, the wind as it dragged past her flushed cheeks. The feeling of the shield strapped against her arm, ready to be used with the merest of her thoughts. And the gobball in her hands, the faux fleece soft in her hands._ _

__The Trool rushed toward her, seeing no reason to fear a woman not even half his size. Approaching her he already bent over, ready to swipe at her and send her flying over the field as he had done with the captain._ _

__Felice saw the swipe coming. With a grunt she brought down the gobball, using all her strength to send it rebounding from the dirt._ _

__THWOMP._ _

__“Catch,” she shouted, hearing the ball bounce back with a satisfying smack._ _

__THWACK._ _

__The Trool had instinctively bent toward Felice to see what she was doing. The ball hit him squarely in the face, sending her opponent reeling back. With a move not unlike how she and her dance squad went low when out for the night, Felice shifted her weight to one leg, sliding between the Trool’s opened legs. The ground skid past her elbow, shaving a thin sliver of skin of the very tip. Worth it._ _

__And then, to finish it off, she swung the match shield straight into the soft part of the Trool’s knee. He went down with a satisfying snap, blood trickling from his nose. The ground did shake as he hit the ground, leaving Felice standing. It took a few seconds of panting before she heard the crowd scream in equal cheers and boos, depending on which team they happened to support._ _

__“Good thing the Lambchester stand-in knows to pay her cheating fees in advance, because this was foul play!” the commentator shouted._ _

__“Felice!” Kriss shouted from behind her. She turned around, surprised at the amount of actual rage in his voice. He stalked across the field in wide paces, the only thing indicating his rib had been fractured minutes ago the stiff way in which he walked._ _

__“Kriss, take it easy. I know you’re a Stra-”_ _

__“That’s captain to you!” he shouted, grabbing her by the upper arms. Without her heels he was slightly taller than her, forcing her to look up to meet his furious gaze. “What were you thinking, doing this kinda thing without my say-so?”_ _

___That someone had hurt my teammate. And everything I am wanted to get even for that._ “I-” _ _

__“You weren’t thinking,” he said for her. “You may be the manager off the field, but here I say what we do. You got that?”_ _

__When she didn’t answer, Kriss brought his face closer to hers, fingers digging in her upper arms. It should have hurt, but it didn’t really. _Ho boy, he’s really close. Careful buddy, because we’ve been like this before and do we really need a repeat?_ They were practically nose to nose right now._ _

__“Answer the question,” he demanded, white eyes staring into hers. There was no mistaking the intensity of his gaze._ _

__“Yes… sir,” Felice finally said, Feca hormones subsiding at this obvious display of vitality of her team member. Maybe she had exaggerated a little bit._ _

__Kriss seemed taken aback by her reply, eyes widening. Was it her imagination, or did his energy shift from her eyes to her lips for a second? “Well…” he said, letting go of her arms and taking a step back. “That was pretty impressive.” A soft fist bump on her shoulder. “You didn’t do that bad. So, thanks.”_ _

__Felice touched the spot where he’d bumped her. It felt warm, almost pulsating. It made her smile._ _

__\------------------_ _

__The ‘sir’ almost had his heart stop for a second. While Kriss had always had had a thing for dominant women, for a second the submissive type didn’t seem that bad either. _Not the moment to be thinking about that, idiot._  
Trying to forget he’d been close enough to Felice to see dark yellow specks in her deep blue eyes, Kriss gave her a gentle fistbump before turning back to face his team. They could get one more goal in. It wouldn’t make them win this match, but they could make it the most spectacular goal of the season. And if possible, Felice could maybe hit Firipe in the face this time. That would be… enjoyable._ _

__That thought should not be as erotic as it seems to me._ _

__“Alright guys,” Kriss started, throwing a wink to the only woman in their group. “Jeremy’s out, but I think it’s safe to say Felice can handle herself out there. What we need to do is my dad’s favorite technique, the Cage,” he started, laying out a rather simple strategy. “You know it?”_ _

__His teammates nodded, completing their huddle as they put their arms on each other’s shoulders. Kriss nodded too, continuing. “We approach as a team. Jay, I want you on my right. Genji, when we’re halfway across the field, I need you to sprint to the other side as fast as possible.”_ _

__The older man made an okay sign._ _

__“Monty, Felice, I need something to keep their chargers busy. Can I count on you two?”_ _

__Felice exchanged a glance with Monty, the smile on her lips mischievous and ready for action._ _

__“Jay, I’mma need you to throw me when Genji starts sprinting.”_ _

__“Sure thing, captain,” Jay said, not asking why he would be throwing his captain._ _

__“Alright, let’s hustle. Genji, be ready to pass to me when you can. Let’s go!”_ _

__They broke up, Felice’s fingers brushing over Kriss’ shoulder as they broke their circle. The touch left a pleasant tingle. _Focus on the game first, hormones second.__ _

__Settling in front of the opposing team, Kriss shared a glance with Firipe._ _

__“Ready to eat dust?” the opposing captain asked._ _

__“That’s supposed to be my line,” Kriss countered._ _

__A few more lines of banter, and the game started. Kriss got his hands on the ball when Jay grabbed Firipe by the ankle, dragging the Feca back down while Kriss landed on the ground. There was a soft ‘thump’ when Jay tossed the opposing captain to the ground, but their cheating bribe more than covered that small infraction of the rules. As he started running, Felice fell to his one side with a raised shield as Monty joined at the other side, providing additional protection._ _

__Firipe tried to catch up from behind them, probably regretting he’d spent his power boost earlier in the match. That didn’t mean the two incoming blockers weren’t going to be a problem.  
“Monty, Felice,” Kriss said, signaling it was time for them._ _

__They said nothing, but while Monty moved from in front Felice fell slightly back, doing a full swing while the snapping sound of a shield being unbuckled sounded. _Why is she-?__ _

__The shield suddenly blasted past his face with a whirring noise, circling so quickly the square shape became circular. The whirring noise was almost made visible by a faint golden swirl following the shield. He saw Felice snap her fingers, and the shield suddenly activated its power._ _

___Power boosts can’t be activated from a distance, everybody knows that._ _ _

__Everybody except that one shield. It bumped sideways into one of the blockers’ faces, the remainder of power catapulting it to the unsuspecting second one. Both opposing Feca fell on their backs, leaving the path clear._ _

__“Nice combination move from Lambchester, but can they keep it up?”_ _

__The cheers of the crowd fuelled Kriss’ love for the game. “Genji!” he shouted, passing the ball to the old man. In response, Genji activated his shoes and ran to the other side of the field as fast as he could. Now all Kriss needed was -_ _

__Jay picked him up with one hand, making Kriss’ stomach summersault at being lifted from the ground by someone who was literally twice his size. There was a cracking sound, and though Kriss couldn’t see what Monty had done, he did see part of a wooden shield swirl by. Then Jay threw him. The ground moved in a sickening way below him, and Kriss caught a glance of Firipe. The Feca did not look happy._ _

__Genji looked up, and as their eyes met Kriss nodded once. The old man threw the ball toward Kriss, who caught it squarely against his chest. Now all he needed to do was stick the landing. Just lean forward a bit. Bit more. Great, now fucking smile because these people came to see a show. Do a peace sign. And… wink._ _

__He slamdunked the gobball, nearly breaking his neck in the impact. Not that it mattered because the crowd was screaming. They were screaming for Lambchester, they were screaming for teamwork… and they were definitely screaming his name._ _

__Kriss la Krass  
He’s got class  
And he’s gonna  
Kick your ass_ _

__Oh yeah, that was definitely the sound of victory._ _

__“Ladies and gentlemen, the Bleux have won but… Lambchester has just scored the most impressive goal of the season. What a match, ladies. What a game, gentlemen. This wasn’t just a contest, this was what the sport is about, this-”_ _

__The commentator was exalting the match in the background as Jay hoisted Kriss on his broad shoulder. Around them, his teammates were yelling their approval, even Felice stomping her feet at the successful combo they had pulled of. Even losing, being the captain of Lambchester sure as hell felt like winning._ _


End file.
